City of the Walking Dead: Season 1
by iMachine
Summary: NYC—one of the most famed cities in the US and fantasy to outsiders. But what happens when the most populous city is hit with an outbreak that gives an endless wave of death? A small family is in the center and they must learn how to deal with losing everything they've acquired, leave their vulnerabilities behind, and use their traumas to their benefit during the wake of it all.
1. Episode 1 - Denial

**(Update: 5/20/18 - The entire chapter has been revamped |** **Update 12/16/19 - Revamped Chapter 1 yet again.)**

 **(Tips: Read in dark font with any instrumental soundtrack you see fit.)**

* * *

The geography lesson might be a little boring, but trust that it will be integral to understand and anticipate what's at stake.

New York City: The overpriced and culturally rich city that harbored millions of people from various parts of the world. There was so much to NYC that made it what it was—public transportation, the city skyscrapers, the 24-hour drive-thrus, the undying cars that sped around past midnight, and the exposure to so many faces that walked the streets. Being a resident, there was so much to welcome and appreciate, just as much as there was to underrate and loathe: the infectious rats & unwarranted pigeons, late-night muggings, rowdy teenagers, and discourteous pedestrians that yelled at you for accidentally stepping on their shoes. But all in all, it's what enriched NYC into the big apple. Unlike plenty of other cities, NYC was broken up into five different boroughs: Manhattan, Brooklyn, Bronx, Staten Island, and Queens. Manhattan was where all the money was. It's where all of the top-paying jobs were located including some of the greatest colleges. It was also the golden gate for tourist attractions.

Brooklyn and The Bronx weren't exactly known for its great reputation like Manhattan was. The two were typically stereotyped for its violence and inevitable gentrification, but it still had a great cultural history to it and many natives did what they could to uplift their community's atmosphere for at-risk youth. Staten Island was pretty self-explanatory. It was the one borough that others felt was isolated from the four other districts. Some would even argue that it wasn't even considered a district at all. Ultimately, the wealthiest people usually live here. Queens was probably the keenest combination of the other four burrows into one. It was the largest borough of all, but everything about it was plenty mediocre. The houses were decent as well as the people. Queens was the primary source of NYC's diverse and rich culture. Even though people rathered sticking to their own ethnic groups, people from all over congregated in Queens. There were over one hundred spoken languages and it had the second-highest population. While that was the kind of representation for any resident in Queens to have sinful pride in, there was more to Queens than the many interesting people the dwelled within.

Deep within, on the furthest part of southern-east Queens, there was something small and arguably insignificant. Something that others would consider meaningless among the many notable things that surrounded it: A small family. A family that lived in a relatively nice, middle-class neighborhood often considered an "urban" community despite its average household income. However, today was going to be a day where things that normally measured people's importance was about to become meaningless because their lives and the lives of every other New Yorker was about to change forever.

People may agree to disagree on whether or not NYC's population was something to brag about—in a sense where anything minimal, positive or negative, had the potential to affect hundreds. So what if something really terrible happened—something astronomical? Could it be an asset or a liability? That's something we're about to find out.

* * *

Pandora Chadwell was an independent mother in her early fifties. Head of her household. She was a woman born and raised on a small island in the West Indies and moved to America in hopes of finding the rumored 'American dream' for herself and, at the time, planned family. She was biracial, being half Afro-Caribbean and half Native, having a father indigenous to the people of her home country. She had straight, shoulder-length, jet black hair, and warm ochre brown skin. She wasn't ethnically ambiguous, therefore she shared subtle features that still read as Black—or as politically correct others said—African American. More suitable for someone her age, she was small-boned, possessed an average frame with wide hips, thighs, and stood around five feet, four inches. Lastly, she had a noticeably mild accent, which her American children, all except one, never developed.

Life, in general, wasn't an easy journey for anyone. Both back home and in America, Dora had her run-ins with some pretty shitty men in her life, and the father of her last two children was the reason she decided to call it quits with searching for a reliable partner. As much as America preached it, there were discrepancies on how you were treated based on many things like skin color, gender, and creed, but there was nothing much a middle-aged immigrant mother could do. She often wondered what her life would look like if those things truly didn't matter. Up until that point, Dora decided that all she needed to rely on were her family, pets included, and her undying faith in God.

Even after a long day at work, her job as a mother was never put on pause. She was in the kitchen, standing over four hot pots of food. Today was one of those days where she felt like cooking a full course meal. She took pride in her cooking. She was one out of ten children and it was almost standard that women knew how to cook from a young age, especially during the time and place in which she grew up. However, coming to America, she realized that such models were something of the past and having children in this country meant having them build their own identity based on the life they experience.

Dora wasn't exactly thrilled with the outcome of her children because she felt she failed at instilling the uttermost important thing in her children and that was an everlasting acceptance and belief of God as their one and only father. For as long as she could remember, the bible was essentially a school textbook and everything had to be about him. Just as the bible taught, it was a parent's responsibility to teach children the same values and it was something she would never stop trying to accomplish.

Her oldest was in graduate school, currently studying for his Ph.D. in science. Science and God together? His mind was pretty much made up the second his major whispered itself into his ear. Her second-born decisively eloped with her high school sweetheart soon after graduation. She ended up joining the military, started a family of her own and had relocated so many times that Dora could barely list all of them. Finally, the last two were both high school seniors and were probably the most vocal and rebellious and still lived at home. They were respectful but were raised in the generation where they believed you had to challenge everything you thought was a double standard. So the 'teachings of the pastor' were definitely something they double-teamed Dora over.

With the way her children had turned out, it was all a part of the unanticipated journey of adolescence and adulthood and she was glad to say that the children of today had a bit more free will than she and others did as a child. Because of them, they also helped mold her into the more open-minded individual she was today. Overall, Dora was proud to say that they were all productive children in society and that she undeniably compared other children to her own, especially the children of her siblings—many of which were back in her home country.

Dora dabbed her forehead with a damp cloth and glanced over at the radiant green numbers of the digital clock built into the oven. It was past four o'clock in the evening and that was the time her last two usually came out of school. Her daughter did best academically and had a full ride to Berkley in hopes of majoring in psychology. She was a bit more disciplined, so her straight-A grades enabled her to finish classes earlier and give her enough time to get to work, which was only a good walking distance from school. But for some odd reason, Dora couldn't get in touch with her.

Giving her arm a break from tirelessly stirring her pots of baked beans, gravy, and other concoctions, she reached for her smartphone sitting on the kitchen counter. Browsing through her contacts, she selected her youngest son's name: Jolyn. Using her shoulder to hold the phone up to her ear, she concentrated on her cooking once again, removing her pork ribs from the oven. After multiple rings, Jolyn finally answered just before it could get to voicemail.

"Hello?" She was happy to hear his voice safe and free from distress on the other line,

"Jolyn?" Dora said charismatically. She always had a natural projection that he often found annoying, "Hi!" she practically squealed in his ear.

"Yeah, mom?" Jolyn answered, unaware that he had winced. The tone of his voice indicated that he was already eager to get off the phone with her, as all teenagers usually did unless you were their high school friends or crush, "What is it?"

She knew she had to make it quick or else she'd either forget what she called for or Jolyn would come up with an excuse to hang up earlier,

"Is Ada with you?" she finally got around to it. Removing her oven mitts, she tossed them onto the counter. This time, holding her phone up with her hand, "I've been texting her all afternoon and I've gotten not one response for her, nah?" Dora said.

'Nah' was an expression a lot of West Indians used. It wasn't used as the alternative answer for 'no' or to decline something; the West Indian version was like a verbal question mark and it was exclaimed at the end of a sentence when the user was especially desperate for a clear answer.

"Well, she texted _me_ after sixth period and said she was heading to work," Jolyn confirmed. Even though he was sure that his sister was fine, it still never hurt to be too sure. Jolyn was slightly more drawn into the conversation than he was just a second ago and thought long and hard for a reasonable explanation to prevent him and his mother from going on the verge of panic. When it finally clicked, he was sure of the reason, "I don't know, maybe it had something to do with your argument over her hair yesterday?" He responded sarcastically, "Mom, I gotta go."

"Jolyn—"

Dora listened in, hearing Jolyn burst into sudden laughter with a group of other teenage voices that existed within a vacuum. Dora could hear one of them swear like a sailor but shrugged it off, understanding that teenagers will be teenagers. After all, she unrealistically convinced herself that her son would never use such profanity even if he socialized with others who did. After he hung up, she tried calling her daughter one last time. The phone rang off the hook until it went straight to voicemail,

" _Hey! You've reached Ada. Just leave a message and I'll try to get back to you!_ "

"Ada. I called you six times already. Six! I need to know if you're okay. Call me back when you get the chance, okay? Please!"

She ended the call just before the voicemail could record the smoke alarm. She placed down her phone, grabbed her mitts and ran over to the stove to lower the fire. Seeing that she was finally finished cooking, she turned off the stove & oven and decided to walk into the living room and relax. She just couldn't figure out why she was cooking for two American brats who rarely showed their appreciation for a mother who had to work twice as hard to get where they were in life. Having a plate of food on the table was a luxury that even most New Yorkers—hell, Americans, didn't get to have.

* * *

Jolyn was the last child who took physical traits heavily after his father with some of his mother's look blended in here and there. Usually, a parent is harder on their daughters, but Dora could always tell Jolyn was a bit different the moment she laid eyes on him in the delivery. He was a very quiet and sensitive boy in his younger years and because of that, he was overprotected. He became a reserved and aloof child, and he only opened up to people he became really close with. Naturally, he was very open-minded and creative. He was tall, very thin and had a charming face that he was wildly unimpressed by. Rarely, did he ever feel confident. His skin was a mild sepia color, having a bit of a reddish undertone if you looked closely. Due to the ancestry on his mother's side and whatever was on his father's, Jolyn possessed features that either made him pass off as Indian, Black or an ambiguous mix of both. Depending on who was looking at him. He identified as Black and even if it was all he saw when he looked in the mirror, he acknowledged how he was perceived by others and how it affected the way he was treated as opposed to others. He possessed bright, deep dark brown eyes, a mini afro with many curls similar to that of a sheep's...so he's heard before. It wasn't the first comparison he'd accept but it was one of the most accurate ones he had ever heard of.

Every day after school Jolyn would spend some time with his beloved clique of friends. Even if they luckily shared the same lunch period, they just couldn't get enough of one another. They were people he knew and spoke to every now and then throughout high school but some greater force brought them closer together during their senior year of high school. There were about seven of them and Jolyn made the eighth. They were gathered at the park that was only a couple of minutes away from their high school.

While the rest of his friends were on the swing sets or on their phones, Jolyn spoke privately with one of his photogenic friends, Sanjeet. They both sat across from one another on green park benches. Like all the stone tables at the park, theirs was ingrained with a chessboard. However, they had no plans to pay attention to it,

"Yo, have you ever smoked weed before?" Sanjeet randomly sparked.

Jolyn looked at him appalled, which encouraged an immature snort from his friend. Jolyn to preach about how he would never do drugs and how he felt nearly superior because he never used a substance before. Sanjeet's smirk remained plastered on his face because as nice as it sounded, it was far from the truth. He reminded Jolyn of the time they all cut school that one day to drink alcohol in the park. Jolyn, who failed at containing his blushes, reverted to a grimace.

"Yeah," Jolyn shrugged, "But alcohol's different."

"Different?!" Sanjeet objected, "How so?"

"Because alcohol isn't a drug!" Jolyn responded, sounding so sure.

Jolyn usually had a serious case of thinking he knew all the answers when he actually didn't and what he was about to learn might have made him view himself differently and hopefully it wouldn't be too damaging to himself personally,

"Eh, technically it is…" Sanjeet turned and looked over at one of their friends, Deeva. She wasn't exactly a nerd or anything but she was just one of those individuals who knew random facts about certain things, "Isn't it?"

"It is. A recreational one," Deeva educated.

Sanjeet wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed and had nothing to offer but good looks. So getting one over Jolyn was like a victory—something that Jolyn's friends would probably tease them about later. Sanjeet gloated on and on about what was probably the only correct thing he's said the entire semester. He playfully rubbed it Jolyn's face and proceeded to motions his arms and hands in the air like he just won a game of Family Feud.

"Drinking alcohol has ethanol and is a depressant, remember?" Deeva recalled for both of them, "We learned that in first-period chem?"

"I must've missed that class," Jolyn recoiled in embarrassment, not only disappointed by the contrary but by his performance in Chemistry as well, "I always miss Chem."

Suddenly, another one of their friends, Stefani, came hurtling along with three others. She momentarily fought off her companions as they eagerly reached for her phone to show as well. Once they calmed after giving them a few glares of repulsion, Stefani announced that her cousin in California sent them a leaked video of some controversial conspiracy video. They all instantly huddled around one another. Some had a hard time trying to get a good view from certain angles, peaking over or under other's heads,

"Oh my god, is he biting him!?" One friend couldn't believe, covering her mouth in shock.

Others continuously voiced their disgust with the video, seriously sickened by whatever it was they were watching. And although Jolyn stood a few inches taller than most of his other friends, it was difficult for him to see anything with the unpredictable movements from his companions. Pausing halfway through the video, Stefani considerably forwarded the videos to every single one of them whatever way she could—whether it was through text messaging or social media. Before they knew it, they were individually watching on their own phones. Jolyn was unaware of what was going on in everyone else's mind but what Jolyn saw was unbelievable.

The leaked footage showed an incident that happened in the middle of a Los Angeles freeway and was filmed from multiple perspectives. It was filmed from helicopters, from occupants that lived in the apartments nearby, or from cars that were ten feet away to cars that were 30 feet away. Regardless, each piece of footage showed something consistent: It was a dead person's body laid out on a stretcher...at least that's what it seemed. An EMT in the footage, however, reached over the body when the corpse suddenly attacked. It was hard to tell from the pixelated footage, but it looked as if the supposedly dead person was brutally biting into the EMT's neck. That being said, blood wasted no time in making itself present,

"What the hell…" Sanjeet said, squinting his eyes as if they were playing tricks on him, "That's gotta be bath salts or something."

"Oh please, that isn't real," one of the girls responded putting her phone back into her pocket.

"Who are you to say it isn't?" Another friend answered, "Cannibals exist, don't they? Wasn't there something like this before where that guy ate another guy's face off?"

"Yeah!" Sanjeet's face glowed, "And he was on bath salts! I remember that."

"Oh please..." another voice carried on as it faded to the outskirts of Jolyn's mind. He focused on the video and the voices of his friends faded into soft echoes that sounded like they were distancing themselves miles off in a tunnel. They were basically being tuned out each time he replayed a specific part where the victim was being shot multiple times in the chest. He sustained the injuries, having little to no effect. The strange man would stagger backward and just keep walking onward if he were unstoppable. Jolyn scrubbed the video back over and over again until he played it about nine times, studying the floundering walk of the man in the video. The weird and strangest part of all was that although he was walking like a human, there was strangely no sign of life in him. Until there was a final gunshot to the head, the victim finally fell to the pavement. And just as the gunshot went off another time...

 _BLAM!_ One of Jolyn's friends slammed their palm on the table, yelling Jolyn's name simultaneously. He jumped, nearly dropping his phone. All of his friends laughed at how easily spooked he was. He, however, was the only one unamused. Truthfully, he looked like he wanted to cry. He flashed a cheap smile afterward before it vanished,

"C'mon, man, that isn't funny," Jolyn said, quite irritated.

"Calm down," one friend, who voiced their skepticism, said, "You weren't actually bugged by that video are you?"

"Don't you think it's all weird? People randomly falling sick and stuff. Barely anyone showed up to school today…" Stefani reminded, being the only one who didn't put the validity of the video behind her.

"So you're saying you think it's real?" Sanjeet questioned, mounting his eyebrows with a hint of inquisitiveness.

 _Well, it can't just be a coincidence?_ Jolyn thought as his friend chattered. Jolyn readjusted his attention back to his cellphone and did an immediate quick search on the internet. As a teenager in the golden age of technology, you were lured into inauspicious things like Alice down the rabbit hole. Conspiracies were something that Jolyn had a keen interest in before slowly weaning himself off of it in his senior years. The interest in government conspiracy theories came from a place of doubt and fear, because somewhere deep down, people never really trusted their government. People used it either to cope with fear or to give themselves reassurance; others used it as a scare tactic and for propaganda. Especially when your government had a knack for showing its ass for the past hundred years.

He remembered accidentally coming across niche threads like these all over the internet; where people spoke about reanimation linked to testbeds. Chemical warfare. Bioterrorism. It was far beyond Jolyn's comprehension but he remembered always chatting online to a kid named Tobias, someone who also mentioned living in LA. At this point, the video became a viral and trending topic, with verified proof of the actual traffic backup on the Los Angeles news. The only thing that had not been confirmed was the shooting incident, probably to avoid a huge scare. Jolyn immediately put his phone in his pocket and dismissed himself from his friends' conversation,

"Well, I'm gonna go," Jolyn stood up, grabbing his bag, "Got a big dinner to eat and I gotta finish that book report that I haven't started yet."

His friends waved goodbye, finding it a little odd that he was the first to leave when he was usually the last to ever want to go home and be with family.

* * *

Adaline was Jolyn's fraternal twin sister and she was older by only eight minutes. She was mature and no-nonsense. Although she was very responsible, she knew how to unwind and socialize when the time was right. She was thin and gorgeous but completely devoid of cockiness, therefore she understood that she wasn't everyone's cup of tea and always valued her judgment and social stance over her looks. She shared subtle features like her brother: Same skin tone with mildly visible freckles around her nose and eyes. She got most of her mother's looks with a few of her father's and was more readable as Black. She possessed full lips, a cute nose and straightened hair that fell a little bit past her shoulders.

Her style was unique and it always had something to do with how others perceived her. Frankly, it was currently the reason why her and mother weren't currently on such good terms. She had recently dyed her hair rose-gold, still blended in with her natural dark-brown roots. She wasn't punk, goth or a part of any kind of fashion fad. She just rathered standing out. She was so sick of people conforming just to be accepted in society and this was her way of rebelling or telling people "look at me, im different." People could argue that it was obnoxious and pretentious, but she was completely oblivious to it.

Ada worked at a local babysitting center by school. She was somewhat of an activist, prioritizing human rights, especially that of women, people of color, and people who lived in third-world countries. It, in some way, linked to why she had such a soft spot for younger children. Through her very limited experiences, she's met and come across people who just needed some care and mentorship their whole life, and she felt that she could at least try to be that type of person starting at the daycare center. She sat at one of the smaller tables, smiling and enjoying the company with one of the children who was drawing a portrait of themselves and Ada,

"Is that me and you?" Ada inquired the young artist. After the little girl nodded, Ada giggled with full flattery, "You made me look so pretty and even made the hair the right color, Celine!"

Carlos, one of Ada's coworkers and former classmate, exited the daycare's office. He was a tall and arguably attractive Filipino boy who graduated from high school last year. What started off as an innocent question about homework, evolved into daily chit chats in the hallways and then eventually something more. Never did Ada imagine that in a million years that their relationship would be where it was now. However, most doubts came from Ada's presumptions that a man of his type could never be attracted to her. And neither did he once upon a time. But it all changed once he got to know her and it taught him a valuable lesson about what truly makes someone fall in love.

Minding his own business, he walked into the living room and changed the channel on the television. Catching the evening news was something Carlos did on the daily. Momentarily, Ada looked away from Celine's drawing and as the television drew her attention. Her smile slowly faded as she made out the headline that read 'Mass Deaths Recorded Across U.S. From Unknown Virus'. A person could only imagine what thoughts had to be going through one's mind after reading such a startling thing,

"Can you turn up the volume...please?" Ada politely entreated. Doing as requested, Carlos' hand searched for the remote, unable to remove his eyes from the mounted television. He sat close to Ada and Celine's toddler table in a separate chair suitable for adults. Ada's eyes widened as the news appeared to be a lot worse than it sounded, "That's scary. Do you think it has something to do with why only five kids showed up at the daycare today?" Ada looked over her shoulder.

"Could be…" Carlos looked at Ada from the side and could identify her anxiousness by the shaking of her leg. He reached over and rested his palm on her thigh prompting it to stop moving. She looked up at him feeling as if he was reading every thought and emotion that raced through her mind, "Go ahead and call her, okay? Go ahead, I'll be here to watch Celine and Max."

Ada nodded and wasted no time in grabbing her phone from the table. She strolled into the daycare's kitchen which was set up beside the living area and almost appeared as a school kitchen. As she unlocked her phone screen, she saw the notifications of eight missed calls and three unopened text messages—text messages she initially ignored and forgot to get back to. Without a second's thought, she returned her mother's call and rested by the kitchen sink. No more than two rings, Dora answered in no time,

"...Hey, mom," Ada greet.

"Ada, I was calling you all day, what happened?" her mom's frantic voice excelled.

"Sorry, I…" Ada rested her palm on her forehead and quickly thought of some excuses, "I was probably busy. Maybe I was on the train," she lied. She was never on the train. The daycare center from school was walking distance and the only time she ever took the train was when she was coming straight home, "You know there's no service underground."

"Okay, what was I calling to tell you again?" Dora said, attempting to recall her reason for calling, "Right! I cooked some pork ribs for you and Jolyn, so there's a plate of food waiting for you on the table."

"Okay, mommy. Thank you," Ada said, clearing her throat. She glanced over at the television from where she stood, nervously rocking back and forth on the sink counter. She thought long and hard about apologizing to her mom about the argument they had the previous day, but Ada had a pridefulness about her that wouldn't easily let her succumb to defeat, even if it was her own mother, "H-how are you feeling? Are you feeling okay?" She looked over at the television and turned away after seeing an older gentleman, in a translucent oxygen mask and on a stretcher, being loaded onto an ambulance, "Are you feeling sick or anything?"

"No. I'm just tired, but other than that, I feel fine. Why?"

"Are you watching the news?"

"Well, yes."

Ada paused. Her mother was always watching the news, so the question was redundant,

"What do you make of all of it?"

A paused told Ada that Dora was obviously doing some thinking,

"Maybe it's like the swine flu scare that we had last year."

"No, mommy," Her voice softened, to avoid alarming the others—mainly the children, in the next room, "This is different. They're saying people are dying in masses. I feel like something's wrong. Barely anyone showed up in school today, there's been tons of missing posters, and only five parents brought their kids to the daycare center. More kids showed up during that scary blizzard we had earlier this year."

"Well, that _is_ a bit unusual..." Dora said, growing worried from her daughter's discomfort, "But it's nothing to worry about. You'll be okay. Just...come home right away after work, okay?"

"Yeah…"

"Okay, bye, Ada."

"Bye. Love you, mom."

"Love you, too," she said. Just as Ada prepared to put her phone away, she stared at her phone and realized that her mother hadn't ended the call as she usually did after a phone conversation. After a brief moment, Ada could hear her mother's voice calling her name, "Ada?" Just to be sure Ada brought the phone back to her ear very cautiously, and responded. A notable breath was heard, "I'm sorry for saying such mean things about your hair. And I respect your choice to color it that way."

"Thanks, mommy," Ada smiled.

Finally, the call was ended. She rested her phone on the counter beside the sink, wet her hands and splashed some water onto her face. Her mom may have assisted a little in calming them, but her nerves were still present. Reaching over to grab a paper towel, she nearly shouted at the sight of Carlos spying on her from the corner of her eye. He was leaning on the refrigerator that was closest to the doorway. She covered her mouth and let out a nervous chuckle as he laughed with her. She held her chest and let out a huge sigh,

"Sorry about that," he said, flashing the appealing smile that won over her attention, "Sounds like that went well," Carlos pushed himself off the refrigerator and playfully prowled towards her. Once they were face-to-face, he looked down at her and linked his arms around her waist, pressing his body against hers,

"Either one of you apologize?" He said, sounding more sensual than usual.

"She did...surprisingly," Ada said, still confounded by it. At this point, the two of them were basically prom-dancing while just talking to one another. To show a bit of consideration, Ada changed the topic. She reached up and brushed his hair back, "How's your mom?"

Carlos looked somewhat displeased by the mention of his mom,

"Texted her. She said she's fine but she hasn't really been up to much other than being depressed ever since dad died. Seeing her like that just frustrates me sometimes," His unfavorable thoughts of her was like a black cloud over his head and he pretty much stopped engaging. Instead of drifting around the kitchen, they were now sunken in one place. With his arms still wrapped around her, Ada could see that his eyes were looking far into the less painful days of his past. Even though she wasn't being seen at the very moment, she was understanding enough to excuse it. He let out a harrowing sigh, "He was my dad. You don't see me giving up on everyone."

"Just give her time," Ada suggested, hoping not to be overstepping, "He was your dad, but she's still his wife. She's known him her entire life and when something like that is just...forcefully taken away from you, I can't even imagine what that's like,"

Riveted and most appreciative of her words, Carlos leaned in and gave Ada a soft peck on the lips. Their smooch was rather passionate but Ada cut it short, taking the company of the children very seriously. She accepted one last kiss from Carlos and he tightly hugged her before returning to the dining area to monitor Max and Celine. Peering at them through the open space in the kitchen, Ada proceeded to read her disregarded text messages from her brother.

 _Hey, where are you? Mom's been calling you all day_ was the first message sent at 4:10 PM.

The second message, probably sent around an hour later was the link to a video that was supposedly grabbing attention across the globe. After confirming she received his texts, she did exactly as told.

Over time, Ada and Carlos were the last two at the daycare center. When the time came, it was routine to clean up the rooms and lock the place down for the night. Since there was a lack of rugrats today, there wasn't much tidying up to complete. What normally would be an hour of endless vacuuming and nitty-gritty carpet scrubbing, was only a few pickups and two-minute vacuuming. Before Carlos and Ada knew it, they were already headed for the exit. Ada was the first to walk out and noticed a hooded figure that definitely matched Jolyn's thin frame. He near the beginning of the ramp that mazed towards the daycare's porch, leaning on its black railing.

"Jolyn?" Ada called, getting no answer. She called him a second time, getting no answer. She leerily watched his shoulders and head slowly sway back and forth in the same motion continuously. She studied him, wondering what on earth could have him in an exclusively different state. After everything that had been happening for the past few weeks, Ada was on edge. She identified the graphics on his shirt from the back, immediately recognizing it as his clothing, "Jolyn!" Ada called again, this time more sternly.

Still, there was no reaction from him. Ada nervously looked back at Carlos as he was the last to exit and proceed to lock up the daycare center. She walked ahead and slowly made her way down the ramp. She stopped midway just before exiting, standing in the spot where Jolyn's back was turned. She reached forward and poked his shoulder. Startled, he quickly jumped around and revealed headphones pushed into his small ears. Rolling her eyes, she yanked them out by the cord and tossed them over his shoulder like one would a beach towel. Basically relieved, Ada tucked one side of her hair behind her ear,

"Why do you love doing that?" Ada asked,

"Doing what?"

"Having those headphones so loud? I was calling you and you weren't even aware," Ada made gestures and motions with her hands, "I thought something was wrong with you. What if I was a guy with a shank or something?"

"A shank?" Jolyn made a face, "What is this? A daycare for ex-convicts?"

"Seriously, Jolyn," Ada groaned, their voiced beginning to overlap.

"'Kay, sorry, mom. Geez," Jolyn leaned over to get a glance at Carlos over Ada's shoulder, "Hey, Carlos!" He waved.

"Hey, Jolyn. Sup?"

"Just came to pick up your mistress."

Ada slapped him in the chest with the back of her palm. She made her way down the ramp and was now standing on the sidewalk with her brother,

"Carlos, I'm gonna take the bus home with Jolyn instead," she informed while looking back.

"You sure you don't need a ride home?"

"Uh...?" Jolyn interrupted with his hand up, "We'd very much like a ride home!" Jolyn answered for Ada.

She forcefully made him do an about-face,

"It's nice out and we need to talk."

"See you tomorrow then," Carlos waved.

As they both walked, Ada hooked her arm unto her brother's while they happily sauntered down the sidewalk famous for its decade-old gum stains.

While walking past a fenced-off area normally used for waste a scruffy-looking man suddenly jumped out from behind a black dumpster. He was pale skinned with one of the skinniest noses the twins had ever seen. His grey beard was long and matted just like the hair atop his head. He let off a putrid scent that stung the sibling's noses, even as distant as they tried to keep themselves. He was sobbing, and his face glistened in tears as if he had been in endless turmoil,

"She's gone! SHE'S GONE! And it...was death's fault!" strange man screamed while sobbing. He appeared to be homeless and was clearly distraught and in a mode of alarm, "It was death's fault!" he repeated over and over again before stepping closer to the siblings. He reached forward and grabbed Ada's arm. Despite her struggles to be released, his hold was unrelenting. He continued lecturing them on what sounded like senile banter, growing louder and louder, "I WITNESSED IT WITH MY VERY EYES! DEATH CAME OUT OF HER! DEATH WILL COME FOR YOU!" He pointed at Jolyn, "DEATH WILL COME FOR HIM! DEATH WILL COME OUT OF ALL OF US! DEATH—!"

To cut his session short, Jolyn stepped in, demanding the stranger let go of his sister. He pushed the senile man off of Ada, indirectly causing him to tear the shoulder of her white blouse.

Carlos, still in close range, vocally squalled from the parking lot in hopes of getting the strangers attention. He power walked out from behind the brick wall that separated the parking lot from the sidewalk. Like a toddler, the overwrought stranger moved on to Jolyn and shook him forcibly by the shoulders. At this point, he started rambling unintelligible words. Out or pure fear and uncertainty, Jolyn pushed him far more aggressively this time, launching him into a trash bin at the edge of the curb. The homeless man stumbled over two trash bags and floundered into the road of incoming cars that merged into the freeway. Suddenly, a burgundy Mercedes collided with the musty stranger, having the impact forcefully slam him into the windshield. Considering that it was a busy road, the man's body bounced off the car and slammed into another with less impact. As the second car skidded to a stop, the strange man rolled off the hood and rolled onto the hot pavement. All three teenagers were in absolute shock by how quickly things escalated. Unsure how to react, Ada clenched Jolyn's wrist and looked at him stare ahead as tears formed in her eyes.

The driver of the Mercedes exited their car and began to shriek once she witnessed the fatal state of the body. Being partially blocked from the angles of the stalled cars, Carlos decided to take a closer look. He took off, and from where Ada and Jolyn stood, they could tell something was wrong after Carlos nearly fell over and retched. Melancholy and burnt rubber was all that was present at this point. Nosey, yet noisy, bystanders and residents from inside of their apartments looked at the accident, all interested by what just occurred. Jolyn was afraid of the anticipated news, and he watched Carlos exchange a couple of words with the sickened drivers involved in the accident. The woman who screamed couldn't contain her emotions. She was a nervous wreck and was crying in the seat of her car as she frantically called authorities. Carlos walked back to the siblings, dragging his feet across the street as if he were walking through quicksand.

"Carlos…" Ada fearfully wondered, "What is it?"

Carlos took a deep breath and shook his head, unable to look at either of them in the eyes,

"He's dead."

Jolyn couldn't bear to hear those words. He instantly dropped into a squat and buried his face into his palms. Ada kneeled beside him, wrapping her arms around him and rubbing his back as he released hysterical yet silent sobs. Ada could feel the intense trembling of her brother's body, and all she could do was be there to comfort him.

* * *

Long after the police and ambulance finally arrived, they put the deceased's body on a stretcher after covering the body from head to do with a white sheet. He was immediately pronounced dead on arrival. All that was left exposed was two fingers of the stranger's right hand and even that was too much to witness for some bystanders. It was nearly ten o'clock at this point and many people had yet to go home The area was lit by multiple cars backed up on the streets and flashing lights from ambulances and police cars. Being involved in the incident, Ada, Jolyn, and Carlos had to stay behind for further questioning. Looking over her shoulder, Ada could see news reporters preparing to get their inside scoop. Hopefully, Ada and her brother would be gone before they could be questioned and green-lit on television for everyone to know they were involve in a murder. One of the cops, wearing your typical NYPD attire, walked away from his conversation with one of his associates in the street and returned to the sidewalk to speak with the teenagers who all sat on the curb,

"...So you said you pushed him correct?" The cop asked Jolyn. Jolyn nodded, eyes still glossy and heavy from the trauma, "But you said that it was after he was antagonizing you and your sister, is that correct?"

"...Not really antagonizing. But he was going off about something," Jolyn recalled, still perplexed by it all, "Something about death coming out of us."

"Well, we aren't too sure what occurred, but luckily for you, you had some witnesses here to give us a consistent story. So, you won't be held accountable for anything."

"Okay...but…" Jolyn briefly paused, "Why?" Jolyn asked in confusion.

"Look, kid. For now, he's a John Doe without any identification and it wasn't your fault okay? Besides, he was probably some junkie who was doped up on drugs or something. Cases like this happen all the time and there's really nothing we can do about it," Jolyn felt underwhelmed. He was thankful his name was clear but guilt got the best of him in terms of what would happen to the victim afterward. He paused before answering, "Listen to me, alright?" The cop asserted, "You're lucky enough you even have witnesses here for me to let you go, okay? Something like this is actually pretty serious if you meant to do it on purpose. Do you know what that's called? It's called murder. Now, do you want to look at me in the face and tell me that you…" He pointed at Jolyn, and then back to the white sheet in the road, "Murdered that man?" Jolyn frowned and shook his head. The cop knew when to be more delicate with the situation but harshness was needed so Jolyn could face the facts of it all. It was easily to blame yourself for something like this, but holding yourself accountable wasn't the same thing, "I've been a cop many years and dealt with situations like this. Don't beat yourself up over this, okay? It was an accident."

"So, there's nothing you can do for him?" Ada interjected from the side, empathizing with her brother.

"We can try, but other than that...that's just how the law works for something like this. It was accidental and very ill timed. Had he not approached you three, we wouldn't be in this situation," he gave a smirk that was a failed attempt to be reassuring, "We'll contact you tomorrow to fill out a police report but as for right now, you kids should really be getting home and getting some rest. No one deserves to see this."

"Come on, Jolyn. He's right…" Ada added, "Carlos is gonna give us a ride home."

Jolyn did an about-face and was welcomed into the arms of Ada and Carlos. However, the owner of the burgundy Mercedes began shrieking once again as she did before. All three of them turned around and listened. Although they were a decent distance away, her scared screams weren't easily restrained, so the teens could hear every word,

"Officer! I-I saw his hand move! I swear to God I did!" The driver announced.

Carlos was the first to quickly dismiss the woman's paranoia and quickly called Jolyn and Ada to join him. Jolyn and Ada briefly exchanged glances that spoke the same exact questions they immediately understood. They walked into the parking lot, carefully maneuvering around the cops that were directing other backed up cars, to the main road. The cars were basically led through the parking lot, to circle around the accident, and exit out the other end.

Once they all sat in the car, Carlos waste no time starting up his Volkswagen. Looking back to reverse, he had no choice but to encounter the horrid look on Jolyn's face once again,

"You alright?" he questioned considerately, not having his concentration broken.

Jolyn sat in silence.

Next, Ada was answering her phone, bickering back and forth with who was presumably her mother, on their whereabouts and what was taking her and Jolyn so long to get home. Repeatedly telling her mother that she'd "tell her when they arrived," she hung up and groaned in exasperation. No one wondered why she didn't tell her mother right away what happened, therefore no one questioned it. Now just wasn't the time to bring up such a delicate situation, especially since her brother sat dreadfully in the back.

Carlos successfully backed out of his parking space and drove towards the exit of the parking lot. Once the car became steady, Carlos slammed the breaks without warning,

"What the hell, man!" Carlos groaned, attempting to sink his palm into his steering wheel, "Did people not learn from what just happened?!" Carlos looked through the window on the passenger's side, seeing the same inquisitive bystanders beam back into their apartments or down the streets, "The hell are they running from?"

Carlos looked at Ada, expecting some type of back up from the girl who rarely agreed with him, but as he watched her, it was obvious that she shaking in her seat. Something had her attention set in a completely different direction. It wasn't too long before they all followed Ada's gaze and noticed that, what they thought was, the deceased man was now sitting up in the middle of the road. As the white sheet slid off and revealed his swelled face, there was something ominous there that wasn't present in any organism on earth. Despite the multiple chatter and cars speeding on the freeway beside, everything felt as if it became dead silent. The only thing that could be heard and felt was the trepidation that swelled in one's own heartbeat. At this point, the "dead" man had made it to his feet was stumbling to whomever was in his sights. A visible bone protruded out of his right arm and twisted the stomachs of all three young adults in the vehicle. The cops were already cautious of what was happening in front of their very eyes but, like everyone else, probably assumed that there had to be some sort of rational explanation for whatever was occuring. A cynic would probably assume that he was high on some drug only found in the wilds of South America.

Backed up in the narrow and curved path of the parking lot, the cars behind the teens honked for Carlos to get a move on, presumably wanting to get the bloody hell out of there. Carlos sped off without a second's thought and hit the highway for the quickest route home. He looked one final time in the rearview mirrors-they all looked back until the scene was no longer in view. The last thing seen was the police officers withdrawing their firearms.

* * *

Out of all the houses in the neighborhood, the Chadwell's house was amongst the few, two-floor row houses in the block. Every other house was your average home and they always looked much ornamental and bigger from the outside. Carlos pulled up to the very end of the block and halted at the street light. Jolyn expressed a bitter farewell that barely felt wholesome and exited backseat of the minivan without even waiting for a reply. Carlos briskly rolled down his window and called out to him. However, Jolyn didn't respond. He didn't want to talk and just needed some time alone. He was seen digging through his pockets for his house keys and once he finally found it, he entered the house as if he was being followed by something demonic,

"Why is he like this, man?" Carlos asked looking at Ada, "Freaking out over everything? We have to talk about what we saw."

"He doesn't want to…" Ada understood, still having an obvious shakiness in her voice.

"But, I saw it too! He's so dramatic about—"

"...Just be quiet, Carlos!" She snapped. She didn't mean it harshly but she just needed space to process it. Everyone did. Besides, Carlos had a very virulent ideology when it came to proving how "tough" and "formidable" he was compared to others. And although she was used to it, now wasn't the time to do it when it came to her brother, "Please, just be quiet. We get it. Not everyone is so thick-skinned like you."

Carlos didn't bother to retaliate because he knew it was going to be a never-ending confrontation. He put his car into the parked gear and powered it off. Being double-parked, he toggled on his hazard flashers so that oncoming cars would easily drive right past without any issue. They quietly sat in the dark for a while, having the street lights color their interior every time it changed through the windshield. At this point, Carlos understood it. Despite his mind racing a mile a minute,—they needed a moment. Finally breaking the ice, he looked over at her,

"What the hell did we see, Ada?"

Ada shook her head and folded her lips inward before talking,

"I don't know," she whispered. She looked over at him, "The news reports, the video, that man," she hugged herself in an attempt to repress her goosebumps, "All of it just feels connected."

"What video?" Carlos pried.

That's when Ada remembered he didn't see it,

"There's a leaked video going around of some guy killing EMTs on a freeway in LA," Carlos' face changed, hoping she might've meant it figuratively, "Like...literally _eating_ them, Carlos. And before they take him out, he's shot four times in the chest," she exhaled shakingly, recalling every second the footage as if it were a nightmare, "He falls to his knees but he gets right back up before they finally shoot him in the head."

"...No one can survive a shot to the head," Carlos rationalized, becoming even more unsettled.

"But no one can survive five shots to the chest either, can they? Not even with a bulletproof vest on. At least I don't think?" She shook her head, "The point is that people thought that the man in the video was dead. We thought that the homeless guy was dead...and they weren't..."

"Then what if they were?" Carlos wondered, following up with non-lexical vocals to mock The X-Files theme song. He looked over with a light chuckle, hoping to lighten the mood. Seeing that nothing worked, Carlos presented his palm and Ada held it, "Will I see you tomorrow?"

Ada nodded without much to say. Reaching over, she gave him a quick peck on the mouth and exited the car. As she walked around the front of the van, Carlos stuck his head out the window,

"One more?"

"No," Ada smiled with difficulty, approaching the steps to her yard.

"Look at my face!" Carlos said attempting to make the ugliest frown on the face of the earth, but Ada didn't budge. Instead, she wondered what he was doing with his face, "If you don't give me one more kiss, I'm gonna sing for you like last time."

"Please don't…" Ada said with an exhausted grin.

Channeling his inner Whitney, Carlos began,

"And iiiiiiiiiiiiiii-eeeeeee-iiiiiiiiiiiii-eeeeee-iiiiiiiii," he purposely took the most dramatic breath ever, "WILL ALWAYS—"

"Okay! Okay! Shhh!" Ada quickly dashed back to the driver's side and gave Carlos a couple more smooches through the opened window, having him hold her chin with his digits.

As she backed away from the window, Carlos remained parked until she made it into her house safe and sound. After she vanished, Carlos' pleasure didn't last too long. He exhaled and rested his head back, unable to get his mind off the, presumably, homeless man back at the daycare center.

What the hell happened after they left?


	2. Episode 2 - Pipe Wretch

_**Update 3/24/18** : Added separators_

* * *

Dora was told about everything that happened between her children and the beggar the previous night. She was heartbroken by it all, especially by the guilt she knew Jolyn was facing. Although the twins both confessed the incident to their mother, they unanimously decided it was best to keep the aftermath of the accident confidential for a few reasons, one of them being that it couldn't have been what they thought. It wasn't possible. Their mother was religious, and telling her that they saw a literal dead man walking would've been the trigger moment of a very uncomfortable and inappropriate tangent on the faith and God and how what they saw could've been the devil at play. That or she just wouldn't believe them.

It was a Friday morning and it was currently six o'clock in the morning. Dora followed the same routine every morning up until Saturdays and Sundays: Get out of bed, jump into the shower, apply a bit of makeup, feed the cats and dog and head out the door to work—all while being incredibly ear-splitting. When you lived in such a small house, there was no immunity from other's noise. You heard every sound and peep made by another family member and in return, they heard your own. At times neither children needed an alarm clock to wake them up for school, Dora was perfectly capable of doing that all on her own. With that being said, Ada was already wide awake, getting herself prepared with Dora and squeezing back and forth through the bathroom to get dressed and apply their makeup. Ada wore a thin white turtleneck, denim shorts that stopped around her thighs and wore solid grey Vans sneakers.

"Where are you going dressed like that?" Dora interrogated while applying dark purple lipstick through her compact. Ada froze by her bedroom door, briefly looking herself in complete bewilderment, "Did you go shopping and look for the shortest jeans you could find?" Dora finished, looking directly at Ada with no apparent smile.

Ada groaned and closed her bedroom door. She shoved passed her mother and gave her a kiss goodbye before escaping down the stairs to avoid another argument on her appearance like the one they had yesterday. Before leaving, she ran into to the dining room and grabbed two bananas for breakfast. She then heard heavy footsteps coming up the stairs and before she could run, her aunt exited the basement. It was her aunt, Joy.

Joy also lived with them and she was the only sibling who accompanied Dora during her journey to America. Joy lived with the Chadwells and lived in the basement. When moving in, she and Dora had the entire basement renovated to accommodate her taste, having everything she needed from a treadmill to a queen-sized bed, to a walk in closest. Frankly, when walking into the Chadwell's house, it was like walking into Wonderland. There were too many contrasting patterns and designs all over the rugs, couch coverings, curtains, and whatever other fabric you laid your eyes on. One thing that they all had in common was that they were all warm colors with designs that reflected Dora's West Indian flare and energetic personality. Her children, on the other hand, hated everything about it.

The only problem with Joy? Extreme paranoia. Years ago, ever since an unwanted confrontation happened between her and another relative on their father's side, something in her brain went off. No matter where she is or who she's around, she believes there is an ulterior motive. The person most sick of it was Jolyn because he was the one accused of it plenty of times—everyone usually was, but it was clear that Jolyn got the worst of it. Dora hated it when she accused her son of things like that because it was an insult to her children and an insult to her motherhood.

This was the first time Joy was seeing Ada's hair. She too had a West Indian accent,

"Adaline, what did you do to your hair, nah? Let me see." She asked, not necessarily disgusted by it.

"What? I wanted to dye it," Ada shrugged, letting her aunt ruffle her fingers in her hair.

Ada turned around as she was ordered to. Rolling her eyes, she could feel her recently flat-ironed hair become somewhat disarranged.

"I like it," Joy complimented.

"Thank you!" Ada proudly thanked, immediately running to the front door. She was out of the house in seconds.

Dora was still upstairs, hooked to the morning news about there being a massive riot of an unknown cause in Las Vegas, California. Pictures and footage taken from helicopters and people's cellular phones showed complete disarray all over different parts of Vegas. Dora shook her head to herself, completely disgusted by the state of things down there. _Americans_ , she thought to herself. Cars were overturned, stores were getting looted and everything was lit in flames. It was like the entire city from the ground up was burning. Shortly afterward, a blackout was reported. If anyone assumed that Dora's mind went straight to Judgement Day and Armageddon...you were right. But to be quite frank, Dora's mind wouldn't be the only mind to ever wander to that topic. Dora turned off her television and swung open her bedroom door. She saw Jolyn walking into the lavatory, which was right directly across from her room. She assumed he was listening in to the news and decided to walk away to avoid suspicion, but Dora knew her own flesh and blood too well. She noticed that he was still in the same clothes he slept in,

"Not going to school today?" Dora inquired.

"No," Jolyn simply answered before closing the door.

Dora asked him why. She knew she shouldn't have, but she did anyway, hoping it would get some sort of communication going on between her with her children. Parents act like they understand the teenager phase, but they really don't. Even teenagers don't get it half the time.

"I just...I don't feel like going okay? I don't feel good," he sighed on the other end of the door.

Dora understood and decided not to bother her him any longer. Other than looks, Jolyn took a lot after his father and showed many signs struggling with clinical depression. He never harmed himself, but he showed symptoms clear as day. As a mother, Dora felt lost and didn't know what to do except sit back and hope that her son would one day open up to her...because as a parent, she figured that's all she could do. But as far as she could tell, that didn't seem to be working. She noticed his irregular sleeping patterns, his worsening anxiety and his isolation and fluctuation in weight gain. It was difficult to acknowledge, so a lot of the times, Dora just pretended that nothing was wrong. If Jolyn showed the slightest sign of happiness or laughter, it automatically meant things were okay and that she had nothing to worry about—to her.

Dora completed her last duty and fed the cats and dog before leaving. She sat in her beige, 2000 Toyota Corolla and immediately drove off to head to work. The best thing about work was that it was only a couple of minutes from home. Dora hated extensive driving and had a phobia of driving on anything resembling a freeway. She could either take the freeway or the main road beside the freeway; Dora always chose the main road. However, while cruising through the road, she noticed an immense backup of cars on the freeway. Like anyone probably would, she assumed it was just rush hour, but it was one of the wildest rush hours she had ever experienced in her life. The traffic extended miles and miles ahead. Even the road she was on was flowing a little slow. The closer she looked, the more she realized that certain cars had luggage strapped to their trucks and cars. As soon as the light turned green, the cars behind her and front of her began honking relentlessly. _Crazy drivers_ , she thought to herself. Having her thoughts drowned out by booming noise, something in the air caught her attention. She looked up, seeing an airplane flying uncommonly close to the ground minutes before it finally lifted high into the air. Something odd was going on. Did it have something to do with L.A.?

* * *

Dora finally arrived at her workplace: The hospital of her district. She worked in a building separate from the actual hospital. She worked in the engineering department. As if it was mandatory, the security, who sat at the front desk, strangely offered her a surgical face mask and enlightened that it was protocol to wear it. She found it odd because she wasn't a nurse or anything, she was just a clerical aide. She didn't have to be exposed to or deal with patients, all Dora's job really consisted of was answering phone calls and sitting in front of a computer to enter endless amounts of data for doctors and other workers. As she took the elevator to the floor and walked into her office, she rested her purse on the table and noticed that her department was virtually empty today. Working in a male-dominated area, it was basically impossible to not notice the American men who swore at the top of their lungs like sailors in the early morning. Normally, she'd be warmly greeted by all of her coworkers, but no one had been coming to work recently. It seemed like they just diminished more and more. Dora walked out of her office, hearing nothing but the heels of her wedges echo in the sea-green colored corridor. She never realized it before but the hallways were very haunting when you were left alone. Dora followed noises of what sounded like the television, coming from the lounge at the end of the hallway. As she cautiously peered into the lounge, she saw one of her coworkers, Georgie.

"Hi, Georgie," Dora greeted.

Georgie was a built man who worked as a repairman. He stood a couple of inches taller than Dora and was relatively young and good looking. He was Italian with brown short hair, a prominent jaw-line, and narrow lips. Needless to say, Georgie looked like there was something wrong with him. His skin and lips were extremely pale like the blood was entirely drained from his face and his eyes had dark circles.

"Hey, Dora…" He coughed.

Dora, for a brief second, looked at the television. It was the same news of what was going on in L.A. This time, similar reports were coming in from all over: All of California, Georgia, Texas, and Virginia. Seeing the last two on the list of states made Dora's eye's almost well up with tears. She fought them as she looked back at Georgie after he coughed. He had visible blood stains seep through his mouth cover,

"Are you okay, Georgie?" Dora asked warily.

"No…" Georgie confessed hoarsely, "I don't know what it is…"

"Could it be the flu?"

Georgie let out another whooping cough that almost threw him over,

"I-I woke up a little sick this morning, but I didn't feel this bad…"

"Why don't you go home and get some rest then…?" Dora advised.

"I guess you're right...what about you?" Georgie sweetly asked.

"Don't worry about me. I'll be fine and get the work done. If there's any problem I'll contact the repairman from the other departments," she took a step, "Meet me in my office and I'll take your temperature," Dora requested before exiting the lounge.

Dora immediately walked into her office and locked the door behind her. She frantically searched through her purse and called her eldest daughter's cell phone. Her name was Sarah. She lived in Texas and Dora was more than relieved that she answered on its first ring.

 _Beep! Beep! Beep!_

 _Beep! Beep! Beep!_

Instead of making Dora go through the hassle, Georgie was considerate enough to go ahead and get a check-up in the hospital building himself. Since he worked with the hospital, he used his privilege to fly through the emergency room's doors. The nurse taking his temperature was staggered to read that Georgie's body temperature was about 110.2 Fahrenheit. She pulled the digital thermometer out from Georgie's mouth and looked at him, before being able to even form any words,

"This is severe. How long have you had this fever for?" The nurse inquired.

"This morning…" Georgie muttered.

"This—!" The nurse was stunned, "Stay here and don't move…"

"But I have to get my things—"

"Stay here! This is serious, the doctor has to see you _now_!" The nurse spoke over him.

Anyone who knew Georgie knew that he was stubborn as hell. Stubborn as a damn mule. Just for some personal, replaceable belongings, Georgie left the nurse's medical room without a damn care in the world. After a matter of minutes, Georgie was dragging himself back in the engineering building. The security at the front desk noticed there was something off about him, but didn't think too much of it. Georgie kept his word and took the elevator up to the locker room where he could get his belongings that had all of his personal items from his cologne to his extra pair of underwear. Why Georgie even brought a different pair of underwear was an inappropriate topic. Before he could fully punch out from work, he returned to Dora's work floor to give her a proper goodbye and show his gratitude for her concern for his well being.

With every step he took, he could feel his breaths getting shorter and shorter. His vision was becoming blurrier, almost like he was looking through opaque, red tinted lenses. As he entered Dora's office, he noticed that her purse was the only possession of hers present. Overwhelmed by the feeling of illness, he just couldn't wait. He took a step back from her office and he held his chest as he began coughing violently. He removed his facemask and realized that it was no longer it's original cyan color; it was now stained with a deep red.

The scent and color of blood masked both of his palms after he coughed into his hands. He rested on the wall, eventually using it as support to make his way to the staircase. He could no longer walk or even stand. He winced, feeling every joint and every inch of his body sting in unimaginable pain.

* * *

Dora exited the women's' restroom and fanned her hands around, hoping to complete the job, that the inadequate, automatic hand dryers could not. As Dora walked towards her office, she slowed down at the sign of something visually unsavory. She recognized what looked like a handprint on the wall beside her office, and looked around to see if anyone was around possibly playing an unfunny joke. Looking a couple of feet down, she noticed another palm travel on to the next wall and eventually transition into a smear. On the floor laid a dingy red surgical mask.

"Oh my God," she exclaimed in her native language.

At this point, Dora was very convinced that it was blood. She avoided contact by keeping herself at a safe distance. Dora noticed a white plastic bag with blood running over the tied loops, sitting by the pair of double doors that led to the staircases. Carefully walking over to it, Dora also noticed more blood around the frame of the exit; fingerprints. Avoiding to slip and fall, Dora evaded every drop of blood she could see. As she walked closer to the staircase, she covered her mouth in shock at the sight of Georgie lying stiffly at the bottom of the staircase,

"George!" Dora called out, "Georgie!"

She was terrified and didn't know how to react. She tried to remember the training that they put you through when you become employed in this type of field, but in the heat of the moment, that kind of knowledge just flies out the window. Dora ran back to her office and made an emergency phone call to the front desk. Security acknowledged her call and said that he would be up soon to help. Dora fixed her surgical mask and grabbed a pair of rubber gloves. Utilizing them, she quickly went down the stairs and bent down to check Georgie's pulse by resting her fingers on his neck. There was absolutely no sign of life,

"HELP!" Dora significantly yelled louder, "SOMEONE HELP, PLEASE!"

No one answered. The building was practically abandoned today, and as a result, Dora felt similar. She stood on the landing of the stairs, looking for the security to appear at the lower level of the staircase any time. However, as her back was turned, she heard motions coming from behind that sounded like the twisting and rubbing of clothing. She heard a long continuous, raspy breath and the soft cracking of joints. Unless it was a miracle, there was no way she could've heard what she had been hearing. Quickly looking over her shoulder she noticed Georgie erecting into a full stance.

"Georgie…?" Dora croaked.

It was odd. Georgie looked like himself...yet didn't at the same time. There was something lackluster and superficial from his exterior to his core. His skin was still deathly pale, and his eyes seemed to die a lot faster. His irides were paler than before and the sclera was red, like every vein present in his eye had become ruptured. Dora was frozen in fear, having her teeth literally chatter at the call of his name one last time,

"G-Georgie…?"

Once the faintest sound escaped her lips, Georgie totted forward with one arm and snarled at her. Unaware of what its desire was, Dora pushed against its chest and shoulders, hoping to get Georgie off of her, but his superior build made it difficult. She began yelling as she perspired, groaning and struggling to get him off. Losing her footing, Dora took a slight misstep causing the wedge to twist her foot beyond its capabilities. She was pinned against the wall, shouting even more, this time fruitlessly slapping Georgie's chest. She tightened her lips, unintentionally putting an excessive amount of strain on her body as she pushed and pushed. She felt like her insides were going to burst from sheer force if she tried any harder.

"OH, MY GOD!" She yelled, before giving a continuous yell, "SOMEONE HELP!"

Nearly seconds away from yielding, she looked down and realized that Georgie still has his utility belt equipped. Using one weakened arm, Dora tried to place her hand on his throat. Quickly pulling her hand away from a snap, she quickly beat his senses to it a second time. Raising a leg, she used it as support to keep mindless Georgie at bay. She successfully grabbed the head of the pipe wrench while visibly trembling from fatigue and crammed the middle of the handle between his teeth. Releasing his throat and quickly grabbing the other end of the handle, she failed to realize that pushing him back didn't become any easier. Once she understood that she could steer his head around almost like a horse, she was able to strenuously direct his back to the stairs by pushing upwards. Quickly yanking out the wrench, she held it with both hands and struck Georgie in the head. Droplets of blood scattered along the walls. Georgie finally stumbled backward and rolled down the stairs like a stuffed bag of laundry. By the time he reached the landing, Dora could tell that bones in his Georgie's body had snapped.

For someone her size and age, Dora was surprised that she was even still standing. Dora rested her hands on her knees like she had just endured a mile-long sprint. She panted heavily as her lungs craved for air. She was exhausted and in pain. Attempting to stand correctly in her wedges, her right foot throbbed from some of the torn ligaments in her ankle. She carefully removed both of her wedges and held them by the straps in her hand.

A couple of minutes after was when the security guard finally decided to appear. He was a much older man, but there was no excuse as to why someone had to take that long. Shocked at the sight of Georgie's body, the man walkie'd a "Code Green" and the floor number to alert other security guards around the area,

"What took you so long?!" Dora challenged.

"What happened?!" The security guard shouted, looking up at her with an aggressive stance. He glimpsed at the pipe wrench in her hand and saw blood stains on her latex gloves, "DID YOU DO THIS?!" He probably wouldn't believe her, but Dora planned on telling him the full story. She'd insist a polygraph test if it would change anything. However, just as Dora was going to respond, she was petrified by the resumed wheezes from Georgie's corpse. Taking it as a sign of positive reassurance, the security guard kneeled over to check the body for signs of injuries, "you're gonna be okay…" he whispered. Suddenly, he touched what felt like a rib protruding from the side of Georgie's chest,

"No! Don't!" Dora warned.

"What the hell..." the security guard said in disbelief. He looked at Dora from the bottom of the landing, more terrified of her than Georgie's condition, "You stay right there!"

With his palms resting on Georgie's chest, the security guard felt an intense chomp on his forearm. He yelped from the initial sting but started shouting when he realized he couldn't jerk his hand away. He watched as Georgie's teeth began to sink through the skin and into the flesh and muscle of his forearm. He pulled apart a large chunk that gradually tore the security guard's flesh, almost tracing the injury up to his elbow. When he got the chance, the security guard jumped back. The security guard was speaking incoherently; a bunch of sobs and yells merged with words.

Dora witnessed the attack in extreme terror, trembling in place and fighting back tears. Once the security guard crawled aside to escape Georgie's pursuit, he unintentionally took himself out of Dora's view. He began screaming for help, but Dora couldn't permit herself to bear anymore. She watched as Georgie managed to turn over and crawl after the security guard. The tearing and chewing of his flesh and the splattering of thick liquid could be heard. Over time, the screams died out. Immediately, Dora turned around and attempted to beam up the stairs. Nearly falling because of her ankle, she regained composure and continued to move the fastest she could. The pain at this point was a minor issue because her primary objective was getting the hell out of that building.

Once she reached the top, she was trembling like she was experiencing the coldest day on earth. Being back on her floor, she approached the elevator, which was closest to the stairs. She pressed the elevator button multiple times with the pipe wrench held tightly within her grasp. She made a promise to herself that if Georgie happened to return after her, she would beat the devoid sense right back into him with that wretch. While waiting for the elevator, she peered through the doorway that led to the stairs to reassure that the coast was still clear. Once the elevator finally arrived, she ran inside and rapidly pressed the base floor button. When the doors finally closed, she rested herself against the wall and closed her eyes to say a silent prayer.

* * *

Jolyn and Ada's school had an interesting history: It used to be a very small bowling alley. So up until their senior year, the building had no windows. The school was relatively small and only had two floors altogether. It was so small, the hundreds of students from this school and the thousands of students from other schools referred to it as 'the shoebox' because it looked like one bright blue, rectangular box from the outside. The interior had a particular color scheme from blues, to teals, to tans. And the wall colors shifted every five or six feet when walking through the hallways. It certainly had an effect on the mood of students throughout the day.

However, today wasn't like any other school day. As soon as Ada swiped into the school building, she noticed that there was a bizarre absence of people today. There was only one other time, during Ada's sophomore year, where something similar happened because everyone attended Benny Hernandez's house party. Unless another party was being thrown and the teachers were also invited, this was something entirely different.

Ada walked in through the school lobby and walked directly towards the school cafeteria. The day had barely started, but things just felt too menacing to be conventional. Ada stood by the cafeteria entrance and was shocked to see students scattered here and there. Two or three lunch tables would normally be filled with students, but that wasn't the case today. Although it was normally the lunch ladies' jobs, to feed the children breakfast, it was up to one teacher to give the students their food. Luckily for them, there was only about twenty of them, including Ada. She looked around, seeing someone she knew sitting a lunch table all on her own. Questionably, the friend glanced at her without saying a word or giving any positive remark. Walking over to her table, Ada sat right across from her and gave her a smile. Her name was Connie, and she paused with a spoonful of cereal in her mouth,

"Hey, Con," Ada greeted.

"Hi…" Connie said uncomfortably.

"It's been a while."

"It has…" Connie nodded. She watched Ada eagerly look around for someone, and Connie knew exactly who. Being known for this, she was extremely blunt with Ada, "What do you want?"

Ada furrowed her brows,

"What do you mean what do I want? I just…" She took in a deep breath, "I just wanted to talk to you."

"Why because your 'popular' friends aren't here?"

Ada blinked a couple of times, rather offended,

"No, Connie. No, that's not it..."

"I mean ever since you became one of them, you ran off and completely changed."

Ada didn't consider herself popular. She may have been made fun of a couple of times in her life for being who she was, but overall, Ada was luckily able to make it into spaces in high school that she wouldn't have accepted in anywhere else. Ultimately, she probably wouldn't have welcomed in the high school clique if she didn't look the way she did. So, Connie had a point. Ada was just having a difficult time coming to terms with it. The people Ada chose to hang out with in high school were sort of cliquish, but she didn't hang out with them because of popularity...at least later on. Ada mostly did it because of their academic standing. Not only were they bright students, but they were in great standings with teachers, counselors and were always a part of extracurricular activities that earned them college credits. They didn't necessarily care about school, but they pushed each other, and Ada was the smartest one out of all of them. She doubted there was a way she could've done it on her own, but it was how Ada got her full ride to Berkeley. It worked out in the long run.

"I already told you…" Ada looked around, "I was doing it—."

"I know, I know, you were doing it for the grades. But you got all caught up and forgot about me. What about me?"

"I was just trying to survive high school okay? Studies show that nepotism is the only way you can get around in this society and I needed to do that. At first, it was for the wrong reasons, but I changed as I got older…" Connie looked down at her small bowl of cereal while drinking her milk, avoiding to give in to Ada's very convincing speech. Ada reached forward and grabbed her hand, "Connie…look, I'm really sorry, okay? Look at me," Connie looked up at her, impressed by the never-before-heard apology, "After today and yesterday things have just been really weird and I just feel like I need to apologize to you now and let you know that I don't hate you or anything."

Connie sat in place, contemplating on what to say,

"I don't hate you either," she said after a while, "Okay, maybe a little."

Ada smiled with a scoff,

"Thank god…"

"I did notice that you started talking to me a lot more during junior and senior year…"

"I just didn't know how to apologize to you. At that point, I could tell you really didn't like me anymore so…"

Connie made a face that neither confirmed nor denied the accusation.

However, both girls caught up and began to converse with one another like they did in the old days. Their conversation was absent of any awkwardness of forcefulness. With all the things that Connie had mentioned going through, Ada couldn't help but feel like the world's crappiest person for not being there when she was needed, but she was thankful that Connie ended up getting the support she needed from a likely person. Over time, their discussion transitioned into this strange sickness that was going around. Connie was on the same page as Ada's mother, accusing it of being some kind of flu. Connie believed that in a matter of a couple of days, everyone would turn up cured and come back to school A-OK. As much as Ada wanted to shoot down Connie's naive hopes with her experience yesterday...she just couldn't. Ada barely wanted to believe it herself.

First period was an hour past due and everyone was wondering when classes were going to start. A couple of minutes afterward, the school principal walked into the cafeteria to make an announcement to the, now, thirty-three students in the cafeteria. She stood up on the stage of the cafeteria, looking incredibly bothered by something. It was like she was wrestling to both get the words out and fight back tears, but there was no way she could do both. Eventually, she surrendered to the crying and wept for a few seconds before one of the other teachers could walk up and console her. The principal walked off the stage meanwhile the other teacher took over for her. She stated that schools were notified by the NYC Board of Education this morning that today had been deemed a half-day since there had been a dramatic drop in attendance. Multiple schools across the country were doing the same. Some had even closed. Since there was also an absence of teachers and substitutes, a session of school was officially held in the cafeteria. And unlike any other half-day, teachers actually gave students the choice to leave earlier without any accountability.

"Damn it!" Connie cursed, "So I stood up all night yesterday finishing up my science report on 'rigor mortis' for _no_ reason," she scoffed and packed up her things.

Connie was prepared to leave, and meanwhile, Ada was concerned on her yearning to leave the building and stepping out into this pending danger, Ada decided to accompany her. Instead of leaving through the quickest exits, Ada decided to take the same path through the lobby. That same path happened to cross paths with the principal's office. Playing it off as total obliviousness, Ada and Connie passed the office, seeing the principal sob hysterically in the arms of another teacher. The rent-a-cop of the school entrance, who in the principal's office, didn't fall for Ada's ignorance. She closed the door from the nosey teenagers and blocked off the only view to the inside of the office.

After the girls exited the school building, they were both greeted by the same scenery they saw this morning. Their school was by a freeway, and never in all their years in high school had they seen so many cars and heard so many deafening horns. Something was obviously off today,

"Alright, looks like I'm gonna head to work…"

"Really? but it's only nine-thirty," Connie whined, looking disappointed, "Don't you want to hang out at the mall?"

Ada swallowed and answered hesitantly,

"I do, but today just doesn't seem like a good day," Connie basically agreed, after some thought. Ada continued, "You should probably go home and be with your family."

She apologized once again for all the times she made Connie feel neglected and apologized for the current inconvenience. They embraced one another with a warm hug and promised to call each other later tonight.

* * *

Ada finally arrived at on the same block as the daycare center. Walking down the same sidewalk where yesterday's accident occurred. She couldn't take her eyes off the street, amazed by how unmarked it appeared. There was absolutely _nothing_ left behind.

Forcing herself to look elsewhere, she sauntered up to the daycare center's porch. Before entering, she looked for a clean spot on the window-a spot that didn't have any painted letters. Cupping her hands over her eyes, she narrowed her face towards the window to get a better view of the inside. She spotted the daycare manager but was surprised to see there was no sign of Carlos knowing he had a shift this morning. She decided to walk into the daycare center, causing the bell above the doorway jingle.

Unsurprisingly, Celine was the only child sitting on the sofa, swinging her short little legs back and forth. She jumped up to happily welcome Ada into the daycare because whenever Ada was around, it meant lots of amusement and fun activities.

In any workplace, the jingle above the door was a symbol of business, and Juana, the daycare manager, walked out of the office in the backroom. She looked more than happy to see Ada walk in through the front entrance,

"Adaline!" she gasped "¡Hola, mi linda amor!"

Juana was a much older woman from Ecuador, and she was a nurturing woman who dreamt of following her grandmother's footsteps to run a daycare center, ever since she was a little girl. She had three adult children of her own, who also had their hand in the business somehow, but Ada only met them once. Like the loving woman she was, Juana gave Ada big smooch on the cheek and smothered her with a hug. Because she usually left before getting to see Ada every now and then, it had been a couple of weeks since they last saw one another,

"Why are you here so early, mi amor?" Juana asked, with a notable accent.

"They sent everyone back home today. There were too many absences," Juana was just as dumbfounded as Ada after she looked around, "Only one child showed up today?"

Juana nodded with disappointment,

"I don't know what happened. People...they just stopped coming. At school too?" Juana pondered.

She was speechless after Ada pretty much confirmed that it had been like that multiple places. It was like people were haphazardly falling off the earth. Either way, Ada figured it was just about time to leave since there was no trace of Carlos. Juana said he had called out early this morning after promising to do a double shift for her, but a very serious family emergency came up. Juana said that when she spoke to him over the voice, there was something definitely distressing in his voice. Hearing that, Ada, herself, became concerned. She wasn't sure if Juana had figured out yet that her teen employees were dating, but there was nothing wrong with either option. Ada stepped aside to use the restroom and immediately whipped out her phone. She tried calling Carlos' cell multiple times but it would head straight to voicemail, meaning his phone was either dead or shut off. In complete fear that something could be totally wrong with him—being in whatever mysterious state that all of these missing people were in, she began to worry even more. After a moment of carelessly day-dreaming of the grim probabilities, Ada finally exited the bathroom after washing her face stress-free.

She headed down the corridor and slowly walked past Juana's doorway and saw her on the phone. Ada planned to say goodbye before she could leave, but Juana was too invested in her phone call. Juana slowly faced her doorway and completely glazed over the fact that Ada waved goodbye. Telling by her body language, it was a serious matter. So Ada decided to leave altogether. However, just after she waved goodbye to Celine and rested her hand on the handle, Juana stepped out of her office to stop Ada from leaving; she had an important question to ask her.

Ada's next pit stop was going to be Carlos' apartment, just to be sure and check if he was okay. She hadn't heard from Carlos all day and It had been a while since Carlos had a family emergency. With the fact that he very recently lost his father, made Ada believe that this was something she had to look into. Ada began to grow impatient as Juana was finishing up her phone conversation, and if it weren't for her coming back in the nick of time, she probably would've made a shameful exit.

Juana finally stepped out of her office, turning off the lights before exiting and closing the office door. She noticed a purse and car keys in Juana's hand and anticipated what her request would be,

"Ada, sweetie," Juana murmured softly. She looked heartbroken, "My daughter. She's in the hospital and I really have to go see her. Can you please cover this shift and watch Celine for me. Please, please, please?"

She hesitated to confirm right away, thinking about Carlos,

"Do you know what time you'll be back?"

"No, mi amor, but please do this for me. I will double your pay—"

Hearing the desperation made Ada cut her off,

"It's okay. I don't need the double payment... you can just go ahead. Hope your daughter's okay."

Juana thanked her and gave a hug and kiss before departing. Ada exhaled in complete exhaustion and dropped her backpack from her back like some stressful counterweight. She strolled over to the sofa and plopped into it. Reaching for the remote control, she turned on the television and wasn't surprised that the news reports had gotten a lot more intense and were present on almost every channel. Now the mysterious sickness was being connected to extreme sluggishness and cannibalism. _What the hell?_

Ada looked at Celine, who was giving her a smile of innocence. Ada forced one back.

* * *

Jolyn was still in bed, sleeping off and on. On any other day, when Jolyn had some time off, he would normally wake up around twelve in the afternoon or later. Something that was terribly common for him whenever he had trouble falling asleep was feeling like flea-like critters were crawling on parts of his body. He would feel them crawling on his legs, his arms, back, and hair. When he'd wake up and yank off the sheets off, there would be absolutely nothing there. It was all in the mind. With a little research, he did the past couple of weeks ago, he discovered that it was something related to stress and that it was a common feeling a lot of people had during nights of difficult sleep.

That being said Jolyn decided to wake up. Mostly because just couldn't enjoy it. The first thing he did was reach back and grab his mobile phone from the dark pine dresser beside his bed. Looking at the time, he was amazed yet somehow disappointed that it was only 10:54 AM. He had three text messages from Ada along with two missed calls and a voicemail from his mother. Deciding to look at the text messages first, he opened the _endless_ chat window between him and his sister,

 _hey, good thing you didnt come to school today. They sent us back home. No one showed up 2day,_ read the first message at 9:27 AM

 _something really weird is happening today so im gonna stop by work before i come home later,_ said _the second one_ , sent at 10:22 AM

 _i hope youre doing okay. call me wen you read this_ , the last message said a couple minutes after.

Before replying, Jolyn went ahead and listened to his mother's voicemail, putting it on speakerphone. He rolled out his bed and let his cold feet touch the pink carpeting with hints of furballs,

"Jolyn…" the voicemail started, "I'm just calling to see how you're feeling. I know it probably has to do with what happened yesterday with that man, but I just wanted to make sure that you aren't feeling sick either," her voice got notably lower, clearly whispering to avoid being heard by anyone within earshot, "I'm here alone with one of the repairmen. His name is Georgie and he's sick. Sick, sick, sick. He's coughing up blood and I don't know what it is. I've never seen something like that in my life…"

And for the first time in years, Jolyn took genuine interested in what Dora had to discuss. Dora rambled on for a good couple of minutes explaining the mouth covers and the lack of workers in her department. She also mentioned the news and the serious reports coming in from all over the country and she sounded especially worried for Jolyn because of his indirect want to stay home. After the daunting voicemail was over, he immediately hung up and called the engineering department, which _always_ answered their calls. Oddly enough, the phone rang off the hook. It wasn't even redirected to the main line of the hospital. Dora was usually backup whenever the chief aide wasn't around, so why wasn't she answering if Jolyn got a call directly from her work phone?

Right afterward, he turned on his television to see the reports that were on the news. It seemed like nothing but complete chaos and sooner or later, he felt like New York would be like that very soon.

Living in a block with so many residents, the parking spaces were filled 24/7 to the point where Dora couldn't even park in front of her own house...but today was different. Most cars were missing, and the main cars that were visible were the ones speeding down the intersection.

Although Dora was a religious woman, it was hard to knock a West Indian's beliefs in superstitions away. He rarely ever had one of those moments, but his mother was a strong believer in signs and gut feelings: If you felt that something was terribly wrong, you had to follow your instincts. He got dressed, putting on black jeans, worn out leather sneakers and a mustard colored top, normally with rolled up sleeves. To hide his unkempt hair, he threw on a black cap and dashed right out of the house without a care in the world that didn't shower or brush his teeth.

Public transportation in NYC was an endless public service that operated all hours of the day. Whether it was a bus or a train, it could be found in any part of NYC. In order to get to Dora's work, Jolyn had to take a bus and then transfer to a train that was only one stop away from the hospital. After walking five blocks from his home, Jolyn looked around at the bus stop, seeing a couple of people with backpacks and luggage. In conclusion, for a bus that's supposed to arrive every ten to fifteen minutes, there was no excuse for the bus stop to be as packed as it was. Others sought opportunities to get into dollar cars: Cabs that assumed the same route the bus, however, they charged a little less and accepted cash only. But during a time like this, the majority of the cabs proudly speeding by were full. Jolyn looked over at someone he recognized but never spoke to for his own prejudicial reasons. He knew it wasn't right, but that's what years of bullying by other elementary school boys did to you,

"Hey," Jolyn greeted randomly, flashing a friendly smile he knew others would accept "How long have you been waiting here for?"

"Almost two hours, bro!" The boy shouted in complete frustration.

"Two hours? During the morning?"

"Yeah, bro! I said the _same_ thing the MTA sucks stinking ass. I never waited this long for the bus _in my life_. I been standin' here waiting for this goddamn—"

"Okay, thank you," Jolyn said, avoiding a rant from a stranger he barely knew. He walked away after _somewhat_ having his expectations on the guy proven correct, but that was the least of his worries right now. It was pretty far, but walking to the train station was certainly doable. He didn't have money nor time to wait for a bus, so he just decided he'd take a quick scoot instead.

On his way there, Jolyn tried calling his mother multiple times and there was still no answer. Once Jolyn finally reached the train station, the train ride wasn't any better than the wait for the bus ride. On a rare good day in NYC, you'd have to scrap with other passengers for a seat on the train. On a common bad day, it wasn't out of the ordinary for every train car to be packed like canned sardines during rush hour. The only difference was that it felt like everyone was trying to escape from something...to flee from incoming threat or terror.

* * *

After an hour of being stalled underground in complete darkness, the train successfully dropped the easily irritated Jolyn off to where he needed to be. Out of all the stops on this particular train, it was the only stop that was different from the rest, possessing a warm atmosphere. The entire underground station was made up of bricks that were a dim orange color.

Having so much time wasted, he rushed to the escalators that would quickly climb him to the next pair of moving staircases in addition to his speed. Focusing on getting to one place, there was sudden yelling. Everyone's attention was diverted to the yell, causing everyone to witness the sudden attack of a random man in the subway. Everyone on the escalators murmured frantically to themselves and each other.

"What's happening?" A very old man asked.

"Oh my god! Oh my god!" A woman screamed from below, "He's biting into his neck! SOMEONE CALL 9-1-1!"

Jolyn and plenty other people gathered along the top of the staircase landing, surprised by the random attack that ensued seconds after they exited the train. Jolyn saw a strange man biting into one of the passenger's faces. Bravely, a visibly husky man stepped into the disorder to put his raw strength to use. Surely, he prevented the attack from being carried out any further, but the husky hero essentially ended up getting his bicep bitten into. Further down the platform, Jolyn could see two other figures walking with the exact same stroll he recognized from the leaked video and the car accident. His lips quivered, unable to scream or warn anyone because it would only divert the attention to himself. Unfortunately, the train conductor hadn't sealed the train doors or moved on to the next stop. They, like everyone else, was too captivated by what was going on. Due to their negligence, a young woman got yanked out of the cart and was instantly attacked by one of the other two figures further down the platform. The built man had passed out from shock and was being feasted on until he got his insides torn out from inside him, ultimately giving him no chance of surviving. People alike on from the inside of the train and escalators were screaming and yelling that the doors be closed.

Suddenly, a young man standing beside Jolyn suddenly fainted. Jolyn was the first to notice before everyone else followed his reaction. He dropped to his hands and knees to check if the young boy was alright.

"He probably just passed out from shock. Check if he has a pulse," someone recommended.

Jolyn did exactly that by unfastening to first two buttons on his shirt, but what Jolyn saw was enough to scare him back to his feet. Jolyn quickly stood up, looking horrified at what looked like bloody marks of teeth on the boy's shoulder. "What is that?" he heard other people repeating behind him. Jolyn's cowardice got the best of him and he slowly stepped backward, prompting others behind him, including a self-proclaimed nurse, to tend to the boy.

From that point on, was complete chaos. People were pushing and fighting one another to get past the obstructed, moving escalators. People were unintentionally being pushed over the sides, being thrown unto the platform below, thus becoming injured. The third sluggish figure had already gotten its hands on the fourth victim of the day.

Responding to the sound of people shrieking from below, Jolyn along with a couple of others looked at where it came from. He spotted, what looked like, two passengers having their body parts closed on by the train doors. From what it seemed, the overwhelmed train conductor finally regained some sense and instantly sealed the doors, fearfully ignoring the people standing in the partial way of the door. For everyone, it was about making it out alive. Immediately, the train took off. One of the people trapped between the doors were lucky enough to be pushed out with the help of the other passengers, but it was unfortunate for the other victim. He looked and sounded like a middle-aged man and wore a fancy suit. His leg was the only body part caught in the door, and as soon as the train took lift-off, he was being dragged along the platform like a ragdoll. As the train vanished into the tunnel, Jolyn and everyone reacted in revulsion as the man's body was torn in two separate directions. Since the upper half of his body was outside the perimeter of the tunnel, it was unable to enter along with the train.

At that point, Jolyn quickly squeezed past the frantic people who were all fighting to get through the turnstiles and emergency exit. Once Jolyn successfully made it through, he looked down at the platform from where he stood on the level above. Just as he prepared to take out his phone and record, he saw the strapping victim basically sit himself up, having blood spill out from his insides like an overturned cup of wine. Making footage a last resort, Jolyn turned the opposite direction and beamed with many of the other passengers to the next set of escalators that would ultimately bring them to the surface world. All he heard was screams and cries of terror.


	3. Episode 3 - Broken Bones

It's more believable that anyone would feel unfathomably secure and integrated when returning above ground after witnessing the bloodshed, that Jolyn did, in the subway. However, he had a completely different take on it. Once he emerged from the subway station and was greeted by the sunlight, it was obvious that the temporary chaos and obstruction that happened underground was something that was potential in the outside world. The rush hour and the panicked people dispersed throughout the public weren't all happening for reasons they normally would in the past. They were all pending incidents, just waiting to worsen. There was safety in numbers, but there was also danger in it as well. If a crowd of people can freak out at the sight of three of those 'things', imagine the reverse.

Jolyn stood at the corner of a busy block, having the hospital building tower right behind him. Temporarily distracted by all the scattered pedestrians, he looked back and forth, staring at everyone who stood on the volatile, yet deceiving spectrum between sick and healthy. That alone was enough to force Jolyn to continue his own solo-mission: Locating his mother. He about-faced and practically began running to the engineering building he knew his mother worked in. The only thing that made his entire situation unfortunate was that he didn't know what floor. He halted in the middle of a non-busy street, examining the building from the outside. It was nowhere near the size of the hospital: Almost incomparable. However, out of the five stories, he was unsure where to even begin.

Suddenly, a speeding vehicle swerved into the block Jolyn was standing in. Frightened by the sharp sounds of screeching tires, Jolyn felt a sudden short-circuit, confused whether he should've jumped forward or leaped backward. Either way, he would've been injured if the brakes weren't slammed. The driver was obviously in a furious rush and could be heard cursing at Jolyn behind the windshield. Making the sound decision to step back, the vehicle sped off, nearly hitting someone else through its unstoppable path.

Jolyn dashed across the street towards the building entrance. The building's path was right between two chained off fields of freshly cut grass that led straight toward the entrance. For a long time, he stood outside, looking through the glass doors before fully making the decision to infiltrate.

Back in the subway, Jolyn only saw the beginning of this random epidemic, and he planned on keeping it that way. Yet, he made a mental note in his head that once he entered this building, there was a possibility that he could see the aftermath of it all, and that his mother could be amongst the display. The thought of it bothered his sinuses, almost having tears brought to his eyes. Jolyn didn't want to think of the downside to it, but it was possible, mostly since Jolyn knew his mother wasn't a fighter. If anything terrible happened here, was never going to unsee it and he would never forgive himself for taking so long. As he pulled the door open, he was surprised by a faint sound,

"Jolyn?" He heard.

He recognized the voice. Jolyn turned and saw his mother standing on the other side of the road. She was barefoot with a pipe-wrench in her hand. Happily approaching her, he noticed that she had stains of blood on her white pants and bright blue blouse. He began to fear the possibilities of this infection and examined her from head-to-toe.

"Mom, are you okay?" Jolyn asked her.

It seemed like the shock had finally caught up with Dora because this was the most silent she had ever been in front of her son. Being in the presence of the engineering department was like being around an abuser you were frightened of. The sight of the building terrified Dora like a demonic presence would a medium. It was a feeling that couldn't be explained and it was a feeling only _she_ could understand. Jolyn sensed her tremendous discomfort since her agonizing eyes couldn't remove themselves like a deer caught in the headlights. He grabbed her by the hand and walked her over to the parking building, a building that consisted of eight parking lot levels, including the rooftops. It was only one street over from the engineering department, but it was still considered indoors. Once inside, Jolyn encouraged her to come clean.

She shook her head and closed her eyes like she was recovering from a blunt head daze. After some deep breaths, it took a lot of courage to respond to the question with honesty. Dora knew that she would always remember the hollowed-out look on Georgie's face and murder she witnessed first hand. As she described it all, she had to relive every graphic detail. Wondering if her last born would believe her, she was especially surprised that Jolyn shared a similar experience in return. A long silence occurred after their eyes met because they could see the trauma replay in one another's eyes.

"I was in the parking lot, ready to head home when I realized that I left my keys and cellphone in the building," Dora added, "I walked past that building four times already, but I'm too afraid to go back in there."

Jolyn cursed under his breath,

"What are we gonna do, mom? Whatever this thing is, i-it's spreading. Is that what the news has been about?"

"Maybe. That's why we need to get those keys…"

Just as Jolyn was going to open his mouth, he got an alert on his phone. 'Emberly' was the name of the contact he had received the text message from, at approximately 12:13 PM. Like any millennial in this day in age, he instinctively opened it,

 _Im coming to aunty doras home now. today was a halfday_ , the first message read.

 _theres alot of traffic so im taking long,_ one said within a second, directly after.

A wave of emotions overcame Jolyn at that exact moment, colliding with him all at once. Wanting to reply, his hands shook turbulently, unable to quickly move his digits like he usually did. They imitated frostbitten fingers in the harsh winter. His breathing became shaky and he rested his hands on his forehead. Surprised by the unforeseen reaction, himself, he looked at his mom with a face that looked like it was biting back intense pain. Dora looked at him,

"What's wrong?" She questioned, clearly afraid to.

"What's today?"

"Friday."

"Emberly visits every Friday," Jolyn reminded, holding up the screen of his phone.

If there was anything that could top today's most unfortunate predicament, Emberly was number one, by far.

* * *

Ada stood in the middle of the room, looking up at the television that was mounted up in the center of the living room wall. Her stance was firm and her interest was staunch in what was being seen or shown. However, the information being released were unhelpful ones. Like everything, it was all for the sake of preventing public pandemonium. _Screw that_ , Ada thought to herself. She wanted the cold hard facts on what this undetectable, imminent threat was. She wanted advisement other than "stay indoors" and something else what to do if things became desperate because she was naively positive that she could handle it. She'd probably be sounding like some paranoid conspiracy theorist, but Ada knew the government was one-hundred percent on board with the prevaricate coverage of this unearthly virus.

Footages of car accidents, break-in lootings, and gun violence were being looped over and over throughout commercial breaks.

"Why are they doing that?" Celine asked from behind.

Since Ada could admit that she was being rather ungrateful for the information given to her so far, she grabbed the remote and flipped through the channels for some type of children's show. All of the popular children's networks were offline and had no signal. Nimbly, Ada walked over to the cabinet of DVDs and videocassettes in the corner of the room. She called Celine over, asking her to choose what she specifically felt like watching. Celine, like always, favored _My Little Pony_ episodes. As Ada put in the DVD and played the episodes, Celine laid back on the sofa and immediately began grinning as the goofy cartoon dialogue began. Without much thought, her laughter was the indirect cause of lightness that returned and was always meant to stay, in the room.

"Would you like a grilled cheese sandwich, Celine?" Ada asked specifically.

Celine nodded, and frankly, Ada only asked because she was in the mood for one too. She ambled into the kitchen and pulled out an unopened packet of Kraft Singles—her absolute favorite. While Celine liked hers with nothing but cheese, Ada usually added a thin slice of honey ham to her own sandwich.

Out of the blue, there were rapid knocks on the daycare center's front entrance. Looking up from the kitchen, Ada clearly saw Celine's mother waiting outside. Ada looked down at her cell phone that was rested on the countertop beside the cutting board and read the time—it was only 11:19 AM. She was way too early. Ada strode out of the kitchen and towards the doorway, having Celine's mom continuously knock all the way there. Frankly, Ada was a little irritated by it, so her first priority was to stop it. Ada unlocked the door and pulled it open. As soon as Celine's mom saw a crack in the door, she abruptly pushed the door open, nearly striking Ada's face with the frame. Luckily, Ada's shoe unintentionally served as a stopper and took the hit. Letting the door close, she shrugged it off and turned her attention to Celine's mom, who was kneeling down to her daughter's height. She was smiling and reservedly mumbling words to her daughter, encouraging Celine to show her arms and legs. Once it seemed like things were okay, she ran her hands through Celine's pretty brown pigtails. Afterward, she looked over her shoulder and stared at Ada with visible regret. All of it was odd.

"Hi, Ada," she hopped up with a forced, yet charismatic, smile. Celine followed, fixed to her mommy's side.

"Hi, Mrs. Lee," Ada formally greeted back.

Mrs. Lee was an extremely pretty Chinese-American woman who had mysteriously reserved her bombshell look even up until her early forties. She worked as a dermatologist and had her own website dedicated to popping pimples and removing cysts. Jolyn was a fan. Every other sibling just couldn't get into it. However, something seemed off about her today. Mrs. Lee was wearing a brown wool peacoat in the middle of summer. And even though her forehead was building up with sweat around the hairline, visible actions (such as putting her hands in her pockets and burying her face around the collar) gave away that she was clearly freezing, and that her measly coat wasn't doing much of anything.

"I'm taking Celine early today."

"Um, okay," Ada nodded, crossing her arms, "Is there any reason why?" Ada queried.

"I have to drop her to her father's house…" Mrs. Lee answered somewhat insecurely.

"Oh."

By her simple response, Mrs. Lee could tell that Ada would be satisfied with a little more insight,

"We're on good terms again, so it's nothing to worry about."

"Mommy, what happened!" Celine suddenly yelled, letting go of her mother's hand.

Ada's eye's followed Mrs. Lee's arm and noticed small drops of blood leaking from up inside her coat sleeve and dropping on the daycare's royal blue carpet. Celine justifiably pulled her hand away and stared at the sticky blood drops on it,

"Oh my god, are you okay?" Ada asked, genuinely concerned.

"I'm fine, it's nothing. Really," Mrs. Lee chuckled with obvious nervousness, "I have tissues."

Celine's mother knelt down once again and roughly combed through her purse. Ada walked beside Celine, now standing away from Mrs. Lee,

"I think it's better she wash her hands in the bathroom…" Ada recommended.

"No, no, it's fine I got it,"

"But don't you think…"

"No, I know how to take care...She's my dau-" they both began talking over one another, debating over what would be the best thing for Celine. That, right there, was enough to make Mrs. Lee snap, "I HAVE IT!" she finally shrieked. Her shout echoed for a short second.

Ada wasn't frightened, but she was generally speechless. Mrs. Lee understood that her frustration was a little out of line, but she couldn't apologize for the outburst. In both of their minds, they were absolutely sure that the ultimate intention was to keep one of them in the dark about whatever was happening in Mrs. Lee's private life, and that was Ada. She stood up and carried her daughter on her side. Ada stared at Mrs. Lee, hoping to decipher her from the outside, but it was nearly impossible. Mrs. Lee couldn't look at Ada in the face, almost as if she wanted to cry. At that moment, Ada spun around to retrieve something out of a cubby shelf beside the television. Turning back around, she presented Mrs. Lee with some hand sanitizer. Mrs. Lee decisively took it and thanked her with a gracious nod.

"Mrs. Lee...is everything okay?" Ada asked, troubled by this strained encounter.

Mrs. Lee gave Celine a peck on the cheek before speaking,

"I'm fine. It's just a bite, that's all. Nothing serious. And I just have to quickly drop her at her father's house. He doesn't live too far from here."

"A bite? What, like, from a dog?" Ada inquired. Mrs. Lee didn't answer. Ada's eyes looked over at Celine, who was apparently shaken up by the brief encounter between Ada and her mother. Like any child would, she clearly stuck up for her mother by clutching her little arms around her mother's neck and resting her head on her shoulder, "Okay," Ada understood.

Even though she could have stormed out anytime, it was like Mrs. Lee needed some sort of hearty reassurance to make sure that what she was doing was suitable. And if she had to hear it from someone, she'd rather hear it from the young woman who supervised her daughter more often than she did for the last year. Mrs. Lee headed towards the door and looked back before fully exiting,

"You're a smart girl, Ada. Go home."

After the bell above the door jingled one last time, Ada sped to the doorway to spy on Mrs. Lee's departure. She briskly walked down the steps and immediately strapped her daughter in the backseat of her fancy car that sat in a prohibited parking area in front of the daycare. No more than a minute, she circled around to the driver's side and took off like a NASCAR racer.

Since then, it was up to Ada to punch out and close up for the day. Usually, people would bring in their children randomly throughout the day, but something about Mrs. Lee's last words spoke volumes to Ada. The place was barely a mess and she did a half-assed job in cleaning the blood off the carpet by saturating it in some carpet cleaner and then tossing a heap of paper towels on it. However, in the middle of it all, her phone started ringing. She felt around her empty pockets and ran to the kitchen after realizing its last whereabouts. She ran to it, releasing a satisfied sigh after reading the name 'Carlos' over a very flattering picture of him taken this past winter,

"Hello?" Ada answered.

"Ada?" Carlos replied with a croak.

"Carlos, are you okay? Where are you? I've been calling you all day!"

She gulped as Carlos was heard whimpering and sniffling over the phone,

"I can't do it, Ada…" he whined, "I-I just can't."

"Can't do what, Carlos?" Ada asked, having an apparent breathiness in her voice as well.

"My mom. She overdosed."

The finger's that initially rested on her chin, crawled up to cover her mouth. She closed her eyes in torment, having tears roll down her cheeks,

"I'm so, so sorry, Carlos. If you want me to co—"

In the middle of her sentence, Ada was cut off by some groans and noises coming from the other end of the phone. Carlos began panting and groaning heavily like he was wrestling with someone, but it was accompanied by some faint snarls and hisses that sounded like it belonged to a venomous animal.

"NO!" Carlos wailed, "Ada, I'm gonna call you right back. Whatever you do, go straight home!" He grunted.

She grew excited by the disarray and pled with him to remain on the line, referring to him by his full name, but it was disregarded the moment he hung up. She tried calling him back a couple of times, but he never answered. Meanwhile, still standing in the middle kitchen like a lost child, Ada's eyes followed some roaring noises coming outside. Walking towards the large windows, which was leniently hindered by the painted red, blue, and yellow letters, she noticed a chain of military vehicles driving on the main road that was beside the cluttered freeway. Not exactly keeping count, she assumed she counted around twenty trucks. After her encounter with Mrs. Lee and her outlandish phone call, now was the time for Ada to admit that she was absolutely petrified. What threat could be so grave that it would take the military to get involved? Could Ada handle the truth now? She wasn't so sure anymore.

She pulled down the window blinds in order to give her eyes a rest from all the questions, submerging the entire daycare center in vague darkness. She proceeded to close down the daycare center and immediately dashed down the street, feeling the wind run violently through her rose-gold hair.

* * *

Young Emberly.

Emberly was the eleven-year-old niece of Dora and the beloved cousin on her children. She was almost like a younger sister to them. She was the one and only child of Dora's youngest brother, Michael. Michael was also born on the islands but migrated to the states a little after Dora did to pursue a life as a professional barber. He was also one of the aforementioned siblings with hearing and sight issues and had a case of usher syndrome—a condition that only worsened as you aged.

Emberly was the highlight of Michael's life and was his guardian angel and was always around to assist her father because of his disabilities.

Emberly was an adorable young girl with warm, dark brown skin and thick afro-textured hair. In terms of technical hair type, her hair was between 3C or 4A. Ordinarily, she wore it in a generic ponytail. It was rarely ever braided, much less set in a different place, and she wore it days on end until she got tired of it and wanted something else at the hair salon. She wore cute glasses with thick pink frames and had a small button nose. Underneath her nose was a tiny scar she got from an accident she got while playing to carelessly with some other children a swing set, but all in all, it made her who she was. She hated it from the moment she got it, but she was convinced by Jolyn that it looked like a flashy battle scar.

She was very soft-spoken, giddy and easily frightened by things. Solely being raised by a dad, she wasn't into girly things either and dressed very plainly and casually. She was in the sixth grade and was just as surprised as everyone else when she learned she had a half day today. It normally took two buses to get from school to her own home or Dora's house, so given the circumstances of today, the bus ride was prolonged. On top of that, there were a bunch of unhappy people on the bus, swearing all types of obscenities. Emberly had heard them all before, just not so many in the amount of time that she did.

One thing Emberly found strange was that no one had gotten off the bus from the moment everyone stepped on at the bus terminal. All everyone spoke about was getting to the airport as quickly as possible and noticed the numerous amounts of luggage. Once her stop was reached, Emberly fought and snaked through other passengers to get off the bus. Feeling like she pushed through the back exit, Emberly fell to the pavement. Grunting into a stand, she dusted off her washed jeans and checked her baggy, olive green shirt for any tears. The only bruise apparent was a small one on her elbow. She examined it, licking her thumb and rubbing the small amounts of blood away,

"You okay, baby?" A young lady asked, standing by the bus stop with a suitcase and baby stroller.

Emberly nodded with a smile and walked off, traveling five wide blocks in order to reach the familiar street of aunty Dora.

She was a smart and responsible girl, and because of that, she was granted her own keys to enter and leave Dora's house whenever she pleased. She opened the gates of the oil-black, aluminum fence that led to Dora's front yard. Before reaching the second set of stairs that led into the house, she remained outside after noticing that the security door had been blown wide open, meanwhile the house door was left slightly ajar. Being as wise as she was, Emberly felt that something was amiss. Rooted in the same spot for the past two minutes, she looked around the block for anything suspicious. Without moving, she tippy-toed to look over fences, peering into neighbor's yards, and yet, she noticed nothing curious.

It was one thing to say that Emberly was wise, but at the same time, she was still a child who was hungry and was in desperate need of some rest. She slowly walked up the stairs and pushed the house door open. Randomly, two of Aunty Dora's stray feline friends leaped out the house and went running about their business. She jumped and rested her palm on her chest, surprised by them. After she was positive that they were all gone, she stepped foot into the house and softly sealed both doors behind her, severing herself from the outside world. She rested her pink bookbag beside the pale shoe rack that greeted you as soon you entered the house, and listened closely to the sound of aunty Joy's television, booming through the downstairs basement. Also being a victim of past accusations, Emberly was aware of Joy's periodic paranoia, so the loud television was nothing out of the ordinary when it came to this household. Across from the entrance, Emberly looked at the stairs that led upstairs. She noticed the two house cats: Oreo and Lynx. Oreo was an old, lazy Tuxedo Cat and Lynx was a cute and lovable Maine Coon.

Normally, at the sight of Emberly, they would run down and greet her by purring and rub their sides on her legs, but they were perched steadily at the very top of the staircase. Ignoring it, she walked past the living room, through the dining room entered the kitchen and made an immediate u-turn, walking herself to Joy's basement. Her basement door was left wide open and all of her lights were on.

"Hi, Aunty Joy!" Emberly sweetly greeted, looking down the stairs. She was hoping that Joy would greet her back and welcome her with some food, "Aunty Joy?" she called again.

But it seemed like the television was drowning out most of her soft voice. She couldn't even hear so herself.

So she took it upon herself to walk downstairs and let herself be known. Once she pushed past the beaded bamboo curtains in the doorway and made it down the third step, a strong, metallic odor invaded her sense of smell. The smell was so strong, she could almost taste it, and it was just like when a curious child put a dirty penny in their mouth. Being only eleven, it was a taste Emberly could remember. As she reached the bottom of the basement, all that was left for her to do was to turn the corner, however, Emberly froze in fear. The fear stemmed from being unable to make out what she was seeing. At a direct angle was a gigantic mirror on Joy's personal dresser. She could see Joy, kneeling over her bed and moving her head around erratically. Curiously, Emberly stepped off the final step to get a full look at the real thing. She looked around the wall and saw thick trickles of a red liquid running down the side of Joy's bed sheets. Maybe she was scrubbing wine off her sheets? Her knowledge of aunty Joy and Dora's healthy sharing of it was the reason behind her innocent result. Quietly, Emberly fully walked out into the open, trying to get some herself some confirmation. Accidentally, Emberly knocked her foot on the abandoned treadmill which was now being used for storage,

"Ouch…" she muttered.

Joy paused and looked over her shoulder, seeing Emberly unsurely wave back at her. But when Joy turned back around to stand erect and make a full about-face, Emberly was looking into the eyes of a dead cat with half of its throat eaten away.

Emberly was stunned and her mouth dropped. Her eyes immediately flooded with tears and she looked up at aunt Joy, whose eyes had not one ounce of life in them. In a state of momentary of panic, Emberly backed up as Joy began to take baby steps towards her. She knocked her head on the closet doors behind her and immediately turned in hysteria, thinking it was a figure behind her. That's when vocal cries began. When she came back to terms with her surroundings, she did a full three-sixty and made her first error by running in the opposite direction...turning _away_ from the stairs that were closest to her. At that moment, she feared that she wasn't going to make it to the stairs in time.

She didn't know what aunt Joy was going to do if she ever got her hands on her, but she reckoned what it was after seeing that poor stray. Emberly shrieked and wept all the way through, circling around into the cramped living room area. There was only one way in and one way out because it ran into a wall—basically a dead end. There was a coffee table and a velvet two-seater where Joy would sit and enjoy her religious channels and classic comedies. Being youthful and full of energy, Emberly quickly climbed the sofa and hopped right off the back of it before aunt Joy could grab a hold of her ankle. Not caring that it stung when she landed, she quickly picked herself up and scrambled towards the stairs. Momentarily, she looked over her shoulder, realizing that she had outstripped her soulless aunt and was far out of her reach. Emberly could honestly say that this was the fastest she had ever run in her life, because by the time she was back on the last step (the main floor), Joy was still making her way to the steps. Only a _shadow_ was enough to make Emberly acutely slam the door shut. She reached up and threw the door's hasp onto the staple and ran straight to the front entrance. Leaving her dead weight backpack behind, she exited the house and slammed both doors behind her. Leaving Dora's yard, she ran as far and as fast as she could, sobbing the entire way there.

* * *

Ada disobeyed Carlos' implication to return home and, instead, discovered herself walking up to his apartment floor. Basically jogging nearly all the way there, her legs felt like they were going fail her at any given moment. Exiting the stairwell, Ada was nearly rammed into by a family of five quickly pushing their luggage past her and running down the stairs. This would've marked another occasion where Ada was almost knocked out cold. Ignoring it, she quickly walked through the beige-tiled corridor until she reached the proper apartment door. It was bright green with bronze alphanumeric symbols marking the apartment number. She knocked it a couple of times,

"Carlos!" she called. She started banging with the base of her wrist and rested her ear against the door. She listened closely before momentarily pulling her head away for another knock, "Carlos! Open up!"

Suddenly, the door opened, having her nearly fall into the apartment. Quickly assisting her, Carlos caught her by the arm and yanked her into his apartment. He slammed the door shut behind her, and before she could get a word out, Carlos cornered her and antagonistically beat his pointer finger in close proximity to her face,

"What the _hell_ are you doing here?!" He challenged her.

Ada, looked up at him, flinching in fear that he would hit her in the face. When she decided that she was ready to answer his question, whether he was finished or not, Ada adjusted her posture and smacked his hand out of the way,

"What, you're gonna hit me?!" She instigated, "Do it! You really wanna see the reason my dad convinced my mom to put me in self-defense?"

Carlos would never dream about putting his hands on the woman he loved. So he did as he was indirectly told and took a step back. Ada shoved past him.

"I was calling you all the way here, babe. Why weren't you answering me? I was worried sick!"

Carlos exchanged bitter stares with his girlfriend and shoved past her to walk further into his apartment. Ada never knew it was possible to look so miserable and unhealthy in just a day. She could tell he hadn't slept, eaten or even showered.

"Just stay right there and don't move," he demanded before walking off.

But Ada would die before she let anyone order her around like that, especially if it made her look helpless. She rebelliously stalked him through the kitchen and into the corridor that led to three separate rooms: The bathroom, his bedroom, and his parent's room. Forcefully, she turned him around by powerfully pulling him back by the bicep. She looked up at him, just as frustrated as he was. However, a horrid stench hit her hard enough to shift her train of thought. With a series of soft sniffs, she stared into his eyes and furrowed her brows,

"What the hell's that smell…" She questioned.

She turned around, looking at the exposed trash bin that they walked past in the kitchen—it was empty. It being empty only confused her more.

"...What?" Carlos replied densely.

Ada scoffed.

"You really can't smell that…?"

Suddenly, she heard noises coming from his mother's bedroom. Looking ahead at the bedroom door, Ada could hear soft creaks coming from the floorboards on the other side. Looking up at Carlos in utter disgust, she softly pushed him against the wall.

"I thought you said she overdosed?!" She whispered sharply.

"She did," Carlos answered in sadness.

Ada was sickened by this game. She looked over at the bedroom and clearly saw his mother's shadow aimlessly wandering around the room. She looked back at him and began pinching and hitting him anger. She even began to cry,

"This isn't funny! You scared the shit out of me dammit! I thought something was wrong with you and her!"

"Okay!" Carlos said, "Okay! OKAY! I'm sorry!" he screamed at her, ultimately getting her to stop. He gave a sharp inhale, having an uneasy breath near the end of it. He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose was fighting back high-strung emotion. There came a point where he couldn't even look Ada in the face and found it easier to stare at the floorboards. He whimpered, having internal tremors overcome him with every breath he made. He rested his back against the wall and slid down into a crouch, literally and metaphorically collapsing into himself. Ada stared down at him, surprised by something so unexpected. She hadn't even seen an inch of this emotion at his father's funeral.

She internally beat herself up for unloading such withheld anger on him. She kneeled down beside him and rested her hands on his shoulder,

"Carlos...tell me. What's going on?"

Carlos lifted his head out of his arms,

"Something's wrong with her, Ada. S-she isn't normal. One moment she was dead and it's like she's not herself. She can't speak. I-I don't understand. When she saw me...she tried to attack me and..."

"What?" Ada said, in complete disbelief, "You're in shock, Carlos. Everything you're saying doesn't make sense."

Ada prepared to stand, but Carlos grabbed her wrist, holding her back,

"No. Where are you going?" He sniffled with a hoarse voice,"I-I'm fine. Just sit here and don't move," he patted the floor beside him, but Ada snatched her wrist away and she began walking towards his parent's bedroom, "Ada! ADA!" he shouted.

After all, they had seen, Ada probably believed him or probably didn't. All she knew was that she wanted to see this up close and personal. At this point, her hand was resting on the doorknob and the closer she got, the putrid smell worsened. She beat Carlos to the punch and swung the door right open, making a soft squeak as it opened. Too little, too late. Carlos towered behind Ada but was just as distracted when his mother reappeared in his sights. From behind, she could be seen in a pink bathroom and bright blue silk pajama pants. Ada called out her surname, referring to her as 'Mrs. Sanchez'. Her soft breaths and moans eventually grew into low snarls and she turned around, having her bare feet kick around a, now noticed, empty bottle of prescribed medication. Lo and behold, she showed a face neither of them recognized. Mrs. Sanchez lacked _any_ color in her face, her eyes were an unnatural pale blue color, the ridge of her nose appeared to look slanted and the septum was disconnected from her face. Her cheekbones were a lot more visible and her eyes looked like if they were going to fall out of her head if they bulged out any further. Fearfully, Ada backed up into Carlos' chest once Mrs. Sanchez began charging towards them. Carlos tearfully reached in and slammed the door, separating them from his mother once again.

"Told you," Carlos said softly, walking away from behind her and returning to his previous spot on the floor. Ada's eyes hadn't moved themselves elsewhere. She was stunned and quite unsure of what she just saw. Somewhat foolishly, Ada stood there and closed her eyes for a couple of seconds before snapping them open again two or three times. _It isn't a dream_. When Carlos noticed signs that Ada was still mentally there, he continued speaking to her, "Remember that video you told me about? That homeless guy?"

Ada looked over her shoulder, feeling awfully shitty with the way she just treated Carlos' apparent trauma.

"I'm sorry," she said, deserving of no response, "Maybe she can still get help. I went to work earlier today and it looks like they took care of the homeless guy."

"Depends on what you mean by 'took care of'," he guessed.

"What are you saying?" Ada mumbled.

"They can't die."

"...How do you know?" Ada asked breathily.

"You told me about that guy getting shot five times in the video and…" Carlos swallowed, before he could speak, almost like he was choking on words. He took a deep breath, "I could see that there was something wrong with her. She looks like she's already dead and I couldn't let her live on like that. So...I...I tried…" He was having a hard time getting the words out, "...I tried using the pillow..." he broke into a serious wail, burying his tough cries into his knees.

Ada followed Carlos' gaze and noticed a pillow with blood stains spread all around the center of it. It explained the broken nose…

She repeatedly shushed and crawled to his side, implying that he no longer had to talk about it or experience this heartache alone. She wrapped her arms around him and rested his head on her shoulder. She could feel his hot tears seeping through the sleeve of her shirt, but she didn't mind it. She rested her head unto his and shared the of grievance with him.

Taking her by surprise, Ada heard an alert, along with a soft vibration, from her cell phone. Using her other arm, she reached into her pocket and pulled out her cellphone.

 _I'M WITH MOM. EMERGENCY._

 _EMBERLY IS HOME. GET HER NOW_ the first two texts said at approximately 12:14 PM.

"Oh my god…" Ada moaned.

She quickly, yet diligently, unlinked herself from Carlos and continued reading the rest of the messages.

 _Things are getting really bad. Dead people are walking everywhere._

 _Get home quick, mom and I will meet you there_ , the last two said at 12:16 PM

Carlos looked up at Ada who was now standing fully erect in front of him,

"Where are you going?" He asked before giving a hard sniffle.

Ada tucked a lock of hair behind her left ear and squatted down in front of him. She rested her soft palms on his elbows, which were ultimately resting on his curled up legs. They gave each other eye contact,

"Babe, I have to go home."

"Why?" Carlos wondered, becoming distressed by his lover as well.

"Jolyn, just texted me, saying that there's…" she fought to get the words out, stumbling on words, "...Dead...people walking around," Carlos' eyes widened, "My baby cousin is coming to our home today and I have to get there before she does."

"Wait, wait, can't Jolyn just watch her?"

She stood up, already seeming quite rushed,

"He's with my mom. It's an emergency."

"Whoa, hold on, is everything okay?" Carlos said, standing as well.

Ada sighed and rolled her eyes in frustration,

"I don't know," She fretted, running her fingers through her hair, "I just hope they're okay."

Carlos boldly stood up and walked past Ada and walked into the kitchen to fetch his car keys

"I'm driving you."

"Are you sure? What about your mom?"

Carlos pondered for a bit, thinking which would be better for all of them in the long run.

"She'll still be here when I get back, besides it takes you like an hour to get home or a normal day. Let's go."

Ada rested her hands on his chest and reached to kiss him on the mouth. It was a sign of affection yet given as an apology. He accepted, delivering her another one right back.


	4. Episode 4 - In the Beginning

_Bing!_

The elevator had reached the correct floor and settled before it's doors could split apart, revealing both Dora and Jolyn braced on the inside.

"Which door did you say it was again?" Jolyn whispered, attempting to put on his bravest face—but there was no remedy imaginable that could prepare him for this situation.

"It's the second door directly to the right," Dora directed. Jolyn nodded, and peered out of the elevator, carefully looking in both directions like a child would before ignorantly crossing the road. There was not one soul around. But before he could extend both legs out of the elevator, he felt an unsettled, hesitant palm touch his arm, "Wait, wait…are you sure you just don't want to walk? We can walk home instead, you know?" Dora asked, coming up with any excuse that could avoid sending her determined son into such a hellish territory.

Jolyn disagreed. After seeing what happened in the subway, he theorized that the safest form of transportation would be inside of a vehicle. Traveling afoot was the quickest way to turn into one of those _things_ , and any pedestrian that was formerly underground could be infected and mingling amongst the oblivious.

Jolyn fully exited the elevator, shadowing the wall like a magnet, and tiptoed down the hallway. Clearly not being the only people the entire workplace, the elevator was in the midst of being summoned elsewhere. Dora found it damn-near impractical to leave her youngest boy alone, so she stopped the doors from closing and exited the lift. With some afterthought, she understood that it wasn't the wisest choice to wait in such an enclosed space. She wasn't completely sure of _their_ capabilities and if it involved climbing stairs or taking elevators, but either way, if she were attacked for whatever reason, she'd have nowhere to run. From most recent experience, it wasn't best to have your back against a wall.

Since her quick snatch, Dora hadn't let go of the rusty pipe wrench and treated it like it was her lifeline. She limped through the corridor, scurrying behind her son like a baseball player approaching a moving home plate. Jolyn walked into the correct office, easily identifying her plum purse on the counter. Meanwhile, he felt his cell vibrate along with a maxed-out ring—out of all the days he decided _not_ to forget his phone on vibrate. Retrieving it from his pocket, he saw Ada's name listed across her selfie and had no choice but to regrettably ignored it, instantly forwarding it to voicemail. Shortly afterward, he had a voicemail and text message from her.

"Psst!" Dora notified, keeping a lookout from outside the office.

Purposely reminding him to move post-haste, he quickly tossed his phone amongst his mother's personal belongings and threw the purse over his shoulder. They ditched the office and quickly ran (and limped) back to the elevator. Quickly pressing the elevator button, the elevator reappeared on their floor, this time having a young woman inside. Startled by one another, the woman stepped aside in the corner of the elevator, eyeballing Dora's getup—A barefoot woman armed with a bloody pipe wrench—Something that would inevitably raise some questions. Treating her as if she were invisible Dora and Jolyn entered the elevator and stood a good distance, away from her.,

"...Floor?" the woman awkwardly smiled, giving a hard swallow.

* * *

Emberly was in a frantic state when she ran away from Dora's home the first time. She wasn't thinking clearly when she took the longest path back to the bus stop, and then realized almost a half an hour later that no buses were running. Although she was sorely opposed to returning back to Dora's home, she had no other choice but to wait outside until someone showed up. She remembered receiving a text from Jolyn, saying that he would be returning home shortly with his mother, but they hadn't returned yet. It would've been ideal to text him back, but she left her cell phone in the forbidden house.

Suddenly, Emberly looked over into the street and heard a familiar voice coming from an unfamiliar, honking car. Once the car easily drove and parked into a wide parking space, Ada was seen immediately exiting from the passenger's side,

"Adaline!" Emberly cried, running into an embracement for the both of them.

It took a minute for Ada to understand that something dreadful was bothering Emberly, and she only hoped that it wasn't anything similar to what she and Carlos had seen. She fearfully looked over her shoulder, watching Carlos exit his properly secured vehicle. He carefully stepped over a small segment of grass made for a flimsy tree that stood by the curb, in front of Dora's house. Remaining at a safe distance to avoid frightening Emberly, he watched closely as Ada did all she could to console her adored cousin,

"Calm down. It's gonna be okay…" Ada reassured.

She stepped aside, keeping one arm rested on Emberly's shoulder for her to feel secure. With Emberly's vision no longer being obscured by Ada's lovable hugs, she saw a slightly lean young man in a peach colored tank top with grey sweatpants and some worn out black sneakers. He was tall and roughly looked around the same age group as Ada. She had never seen him before.

"Who's that?" Emberly asked, looking up at Ada.

"That Carlos. He's my...very good friend."

Carlos waved, taking that as his cue to introduce himself and step forward.

"Hey, Emily…"

"Emberly," both girls corrected.

"...Emberly," he repeated, cheesing even harder, "How are you?"

Naturally, one would say that they were "doing fine" or that they were "okay", but Emberly couldn't bring herself to say it, because it would've been a response drastically far from the truth. Once Ada picked up on the silence, Ada released Emberly and looked down at her,

"Emberly, what happened?"

"Something's wrong with aunty Joy..." Emberly announced as her voice cracked.

Ada and Carlos looked at one another, having a sharp idea of what those words could have been code for.

* * *

Ada and Carlos convinced themselves that things should and would be fine with them around, however, Emberly felt entirely opposed to the whole thing. She made sure to clarify that _nothing_ could make her feel safe enough to stroll back into that house. She just wanted Carlos to give her a ride back home, but with the way things were turning out with this random sickness, the chances were too risky. The more they tried encouraging the preteen to accompany them, the louder her oppositions and fusses became. She boldly made the choice that she wasn't going to step back into that house until aunt Joy was "taken to the hospital". She felt much safer outside than she did indoors for the time being. Eventually, they gave up trying to get her to stick close to them and thought it was best to keep Emberly from seeing whatever wickedness she had described.

The front door of the Chadwell's home was pushed open ever so slightly as Ada was the first to enter with Carlos close behind her.

"Where'd you last see her again?" Ada inquired Emberly, looking down the three sets of red steps.

"The basement. I used the thing on the door to lock her in there," Emberly enlightened.

"The latch?" Ada quizzed.

Emberly nodded, having Ada turn her attention back to the entrance. Like every typical Queens house, their home wasn't exactly big and spacious, especially since Dora was a professional at buying unneeded junk. As soon as you entered the Chadwell home, there was pink, carpeted steps _directly_ across from you that to the upstairs. The house cats, eager to go outdoors, ran past Ada and greeted Emberly while she sat on the porch with her back facing the entrance.

Ada walked a little past the front entrance and made a left into the living room. There, you had the entire floor presented to you in a single glance. By standing in the living room she was already looking through the dining room and into the kitchen. Ada carefully made her way through the living room and into the kitchen, making an immediate u-turn and encountering Joy's white basement door. The door owned a knob that was incapable of twisting or turning, so it was either push or pull. The door was just as Emberly said. It sealed by the latch, but with no padlock. Ada held a handful of the rattling bamboo curtains and moved them aside so she could place her ear against the door. All she could hear was Joy's thunderous television flooding the basement with a sea of soundwaves. If they were physical, Ada would surely feel them around her ankles.

 _Behind another damn door_ , she thought to herself, recalling Mrs. Sanchez's bedroom door. It wasn't as easy as it seemed, seeing that Ada had such a difficult time removing the hasp. She was fighting with herself internally, combating the good conscience inside of her that told her to just turn away if she wanted to spare herself of the ordeal. Ultimately, Ada won the battle, and she proceeded to slowly remove the hasp. She closed her eyes as her hand felt its way to the knob and slowly pushed it open, feeling her most vital organ beat immoderately. As she squeezed nothing more but her head past the entry, she felt an environment so ominousness, she could touch it.

Joy wasn't at the bottom of the staircase, so Ada had no choice but grab her attention somehow. Yelling at the top of her lungs, she called "Aunt Joy" over and over until her trembling voice gave signs of strain and stress. Her hands held onto the rickety handrail, shaking even further due to the uneasiness discharged from her palms. Nearly halfway down, Ada's face tensed up at the sight of Joy waddling directly towards the bottom of the staircase, aimlessly following the sound of Ada's voice like a moth to a flame. Ada shrieked and stumbled back a couple of steps, eventually falling on her hindquarters, thinking that Joy was going to climb after her. However, she stopped and stared, noticing the secreting yet hardened skin, like she had walked straight out of a coffin despite being 'gone' for hours. She had marks all over her face, obvious signs of the stray's struggle, and her stomach was filled beyond normal capacity.

She stared at aunt Joy's feet, failing to make their way up at least one step. Ada's glossy eyes looked elsewhere, and meanwhile, it was effortless to not want to witness anymore, it was also extremely painful to be brought to that point. She wiped away a tear and calmly made her way back upstairs, doing exactly what Emberly did her first encounter—just more diligently.

As she backed away into the kitchen, nearly knocking her side on the oven directly behind her, she walked into the unenclosed. She saw Carlos in the living room, sitting right beside Emberly on the sofa. If Ada weren't already stupefied by the sight of her relative and an undying will to hold back tears, she'd express how amazed she was by her boyfriend's influence over Emberly in spite of them meeting for the first time ever.

"Did you see her?" Emberly asked with a depressed presence.

Ada couldn't confirm, but only because she wanted to deny what she had seen. She cleared her throat,

"Hey, why don't you go to the backyard and try calling your dad to see he's alright?"

"I'll...I'll go with her…" Carlos respectfully offered, seeing it as the right thing to do.

Ada desperately sought some alone time with Carlos, but she understood his place in all of this. He must've felt obligated because of the possible thought that he could be intruding, but it was incredibly brave of him to put his current feelings aside to be there for a young family member he knew in less than half an hour. So it was by good example that Ada did the same. She watched Emberly retrieve her cell phone from her backpack and guide Carlos to the back door, which was a dull artichoke color. She led him out of the next security door, surprising him by the greeting of a frolicsome mixed-breed dog with pointed ears and a sickle tail.

Ada turned her back and immediately took out her own cell, going through the contacts and calling Jolyn. However, her call was denied and went straight to voicemail,

"Jolyn…" Ada's voice cracked, giving a high pitched inhale, "Call me as soon as you get this. Please...it's urgent."

Basically texting the same thing, she sat on the living room sofa, directly opposite the path leading to either the house exit or stairs. Tears endlessly streamed down her freckled cheeks in silence.

* * *

Around two hours later, Jolyn and Dora finally returned home after the struggle to reclaim Dora's car keys. The setting of the neighborhood was rather different this time. A few neighbors were either returning home from work, carrying items in bulk, or deciding that it was time to abandon their place. People were hauling large suitcases to their car and hoping to catch flights. Even friendly neighbors, who greeted the Chadwell's every single time they saw one another were too focused to offer any kind of attention.

As much as they desired to ask questions, they were too worn out by today's anomalies. Within seconds of entering their yard, Ada opened the front door and ran out to greet her brother and mother. The noises of their aluminum fence opening and closing always alerted whoever was in the house,

"Oh, thank god!" Ada cried out, leaping from the steps and separately into her mother and brother's arms.

Ada's reaction was extremely telling, meaning that Jolyn and Dora weren't the only ones who witnessed the abundant scare tactics today,

"Mom…" Ada covered her mouth, looking at the blood stains on Dora's clothing, "Wha...is that blood? Are you bit?"

"Bit?" Jolyn repeated in curiosity, shocked that his sibling even knew the concept.

Dora looked around, seeing a new set of neighbor's closest to them, exit their home and begin to hammer their windows with plywood. She turned each of her children around by the shoulders and rushed them into the house, indicating that she had something to discuss with them in private. Once they were all locked inside, Dora was surprised to spot a handsome young man sitting on their three-seat living room sofa, with groggy eyes formerly pinned to the television. Jolyn waved. Spread across the two-seater, in slumber, was Emberly, snoring softly.

"Mom, this is Carlos…" Ada introduced.

After all she had been through today, she didn't want the presence of an unknown stranger in her house, especially alone with her daughter and niece. Dora eyed the both Ada and Carlos and proceeded to portray a brittle smile,

"Dora…" she greeted, reaching over to shake his firm hand.

She was the first to pull away and headed upstairs, quietly summoning her children that were looking like lost pups at the bottom of the staircase. They all walked upstairs and sealed themselves off in her room. Being in the comfort of her own home and children, Dora began to change her clothes almost immediately. Her queen-sized bed took up most of the space in her room, making an 'L' shaped path, occupied by small crates for mail and five-pound dumbbells here and there. Her children stood on the far side, away from the drawers that contained her clothing,

"You want to know what happened to me at work today?" coaxed Dora, specifically towards Ada.

Ada gave Jolyn a nervous glance before answering. She crossed her arms before speaking, a very telling gesture,

"What?" she mumbled.

"I was at work today and a coworker of mine was very sick. It was a nasty cold, nasty, nasty, nasty!" she emphasized, "Then, he disappeared for a minute. I went to the bathroom, came back and...and…" Dora was already seated on the edge of her bed with her facing them. She gathered all of her hair over shoulders with one hand and tied it into a ponytail that sat at the base of her head. She took in a deep breath, attempting to continue her story "Oh, Lord…"

"Something happened to him," Jolyn took over, "He attacked mom before she could get away…"

"What do you mean something happened to him?" Ada quizzed.

Jolyn took a deep breath,

"I sort of saw the same thing...and…." he paused, giving a shivering breath like he was holding back tears, "Ada I saw people die. Die and come back to life!"

She took a few steps away from him, walking to the furthest end of the 'L'. She glanced at the both of them,

"Dead people _don't_ come back to life," she argued.

"W-we know that!" Jolyn said, making irate gestures with his hands as he spoke, "I saw it with my own eyes, Ada! It was _so_ scary. I'm still shaking."

Jolyn continued to tell the story for his mother, seeing that she was having such a difficult time. However, it became enormously difficult for him once he had to include himself in the experience because he had to tell it from his own point of view. He didn't know what it was like, being face to face with a walking corpse and he didn't want to know. He didn't want to know what it felt like having to break a skull. But he knew what it was like to see people getting their flesh torn apart and getting their bodies severed. He moved on to his story, overcome by intense nausea. He excused himself and quickly exited Dora's room and headed straight across for the bathroom. Not even a second after hearing the door slammed, he could be heard retching into the toilet bowl.

"He'll be okay…" Dora sighed.

"Did you hear from Leo and Sarah?" Ada asked.

Dora nodded, remembering the moment she saw Texas on the devastating news reports this morning. She ran into her office and must have called and texted contact in her phone.

"Everyone's okay so far. Your brother is locked in his dormitory with his roommates and your sister is traveling with the army right now, but they have her family in protective custody so I'm sure they'll be fine. Your aunts, cousins, and uncles back home seem fine…infection hasn't had the chance to hit there, thank god, and…" Dora's voice died off a bit, whereas there seemed to be an obvious ellipses in her speech.

"What is it?"

"Close the door…" Dora suggested. Ada did as she was told and slightly pushed the bedroom door shut. It was obvious that Dora wanted to hide something from her son, but what could've been so personal that she trusted Ada with it more than Jolyn? Dora grabbed her daughter's hand and pulled her directly in front of her, "I tried calling your dad in Virginia…" she sighed, "I couldn't get an answer."

"Oh," Ada tucked a lock of hair behind her ears, proceeded to cross her arms and nod; a collection of anxious movements, "It doesn't matter...he was never really around anyway…"

"Don't tell Jolyn."

"Why?" Ada scoffed.

Dora shrugged,

"Look, as much as he doesn't want to admit it, he's just like his father, and he…" She was cut off by Ada.

"Mom…"

"...and he sees that!"

"Mom! Jolyn and dad are _nothing_ alike, okay?!" She said, cutting Dora off, "Dad was an abusive asshole towards you, okay? He isn't a good man!"

"And he's still your father! You know Jolyn saw something in his father and it was the only reason he spoke to him before he moved to Virginia."

Ada shook her head, feeling like she knew more of the truth than her mother did. Sometimes siblings just preferred sharing secrets with one another that they dared not tell their parents. She knew about the misery and multiple fights Jolyn had to go through because he made the responsible choice of being a mental crutch for his father, and because of that, Jolyn in return would suffer from the negativity and toxicity.

"What about you, mom? Are you okay?" Ada asked with concern.

'I'll be fine. I'll just try to have a good prayer tonight. I'm just glad Emberly is here in one piece…" she paused for while before looking at the photographs of her beloved relatives taped to her dresser mirrors, and popped one final question, "Where's Joy?"

The best way Dora could describe Ada'a reaction was like she had been personally insulted by Dora's question. With that being said, Ada's eyes continued to well up. Dora, in some sense, already knew what words were striving to transpire from her daughter's lips.

* * *

It was a rough evening once the news got to every one of aunt Joy's current state—except Emberly. Although Emberly was the first to encounter and see what became of Joy, she was still an eleven year old completely unaware of what was going on. She believed that her mentally unstable aunt had finally cracked.

Dora would treat Emberly as if she were her own daughter, which included being hard on her and being completely honest, no matter how ugly and harsh the truth was. Therefore, the plan, for now, was to keep Emberly in the dark until they, themselves, were no longer in the dark as well. As exhausted as everyone seemed, it was difficult to fall asleep in something that felt like an eternal nightmare. Everyone, including Carlos, remained close together, sitting on the couches of the living room and watching the news that promised no good reports. She walked off from time to time to grieve, thinking that whenever she returned, there was no more cry left in her, but it always turned out to be the opposite. Getting up for about the seventh time, Dora grabbed a box of tissues as she walked through the house and into the backyard once she realized that she would need more time alone. She swiped through the security door, having it freely slam behind her. The backyard was a small one and included an average sized garage used for storing junk and serving as the dog's residence. Marigold was her name, and she was always so happy whenever she saw her owner exiting the yard. Dora, clearly treatless, apologized to her furry blonde friend.

Standing at the very top of her backyard porch—possessing the same red color as her front—-she could see over the very top of her closely aligned, seven foot, picket fence built around the perimeter of her backyard. She saw the back of her neighbor's, head. Her name was Janae, and from the look of her messy bun and nightgown, she wasn't running anywhere.

Janae was a woman who recently moved into the block with her two daughters. She was a kind woman who usually kept to herself. The only times she was ever seen outside of the house was when she dropping her youngest daughter off to elementary school or running errands. She threw great family gatherings during any recognized day, whether it was July 4th or Ash Wednesday. Whether she worked or not? Dora didn't know. But there was a day when Dora approached Janae in hopes of recruiting her youngest daughter to attend vacation bible school, a program that the local church held every Summer. They participated in fun games and challenges, all as a ruse to brainwash impressional babies into taking interest in a religion. No matter the movement, it was always best to assimilate them while they were young.

While standing atop the porch, Dora said hi to Janae, lacking her natural enthusiasm when speaking to acquaintances. After a couple of seconds, she figured that maybe her lethargic attitude had something to do with the fact that Janea never responded. However, something felt incredibly bizarre about Janae's movements. Thinking back during her situation at work, Dora pulled a tissue from her tissue box and dried away her tears. Irresolutely, she blew her nose into it a couple of times, simultaneously clearing out the mucus from her snout. Just as calculated, she received the reaction she expected.

Janae teetered around, like a mannequin unable to bend its joints, slowly revealing that she too had contracted the sickness. She was a fair-skinned woman with a complexion in likeness with sand, but her skin was ten times paler than it was naturally. Her irises were a pale blue, sticking out like a sore thumb from her heavily hemorrhaged right eye. When Janae finally locked eyes on Dora, she opened her mouth and hissed silently, revealing unappealing, blackened teeth that Janae had possessed _before_ , for whatever unpleasant reason.

Even if one was clearly more conscious than the other, _both_ of their attentions were drawn by the familiar and sudden noises of what undoubtedly sounded like helicopter rotors. Once the sounds grew louder, it retained the same volume as gusts of wind picked up around Dora. Marigold was a canine easily frightened by booming noises—fireworks, thunder, and now helicopter blades. Dora carefully walked down the steps, since the only thing separating her view from the sky was the awning on her backyard porch. She looked into the skies and brought her hands to her eyes to provide some form of shade from the sun, noticing a beige colored helicopter hovering about three hundred feet above their house. The longer Dora stared at them, the more she wondered what they were doing. After a couple of seconds, Dora was shocked by a deafening gunshot that flew into Jenae's yard. She ducked and ran for cover, assuming that this was all the commencing of a bioterrorist attack and overseas war. It would make sense after all.

Her first priority was her children and niece. She power walked into the house, seeing everyone's shaken faces pinned on the living room floor. Everyone babbled uncontrollably over one another, with Dora soon joining the set. Ultimately, everyone's question was what was going on. Dora wasn't exactly sure, but she crawled to the floor and decided to clump together with the group. From her position on the floor, she could see through the opened blinds and saw the helicopter hovering over their neighborhood at a much higher altitude. Dora cowered away, wanting the helicopter out of sight, because as long as the copter was in _her_ sight—she was in _its_ sight.

"Attention, residents!" A random woman's voice said over a blaring megaphone, obviously from the helicopter, "I repeat, _attention_ residents!" Everyone in the living room listed closely, looking at one another and speaking through facial expressions. The announcement continued, "We are the New York Army National Guard. By demand of the Federal government of the United States, we have set up mobile stations not too far from here and are now imposing martial law on the state of New York. A vast majority of neighborhoods in Queens have been quarantined. That includes this city! We will be setting up checkpoints shortly. Please, do not leave the area at any time for any reason. Certain areas have been restricted. I repeat! Certain areas have been restricted for your safety. Any disobedience of the law can result in quarantine or incarceration. The Army will be here with you shortly."

About an hour later, the power went out. Many people had disobeyed and fled the neighborhood, abandoning their homes. There were a couple of families who thought it was best to stay because they had no idea what was going on on the outside, and that included Dora's family. Although he was told not to, Carlos left in a blink to return home and check on his mother. He hoped that she had gotten "better", and although it was highly unlikely, a fraction of Ada craved for the same result for both Mrs. Sanchez and Aunt Joy.

It was around thirty minutes past five in the afternoon, and the military returned as they promised. Imagine a swarm of stiff men and women in camouflage patterns uniform; holding heavy artillery, walking door to door and interrogating people on their families. They choked off blocks, understanding that people would leave in such a totalitarian-esque moment. Dora was a woman who took pride in being the Head of Household, especially for a woman who came from where she did. So as soon as she heard the hard knocks on her door, she answered without hesitation. She wore her best smile, happy to see men and women whose duty was to protect the country she knew they shared the same admiration for,

"Hello, ma'am," A handsome Caucasian male said, standing beside an equally gorgeous Afro-American woman who was roughly younger and shorter than her colleague. The sight of her was slightly a doozy because it instantly reminded Dora of her eldest daughter, "I'm private Arne Rogers and this Peyton Torres."

Dora nodded,

"Dora Chadwell. Nice to meet you."

"Whoa," Arne exclaimed, "Where's that accent from?"

Dora smiled, most it being genuine.

"I'm from a small island called Dominica."

"Exotic," Arne commented, obviously trying to familiarize himself with the neighborhood.

Jolyn, who was hidden on the sidelines nearly gagged and exchanged distasteful glances with his sister.

Nonetheless, Arne showed himself to be a friendly man and spoke with Dora for such a long while that it seemed more than a forced conversation. He became relaxed, taking off his cap and revealing red hair and big ears. However, there eventually came a time where he had to leave and carry on with his duties. He handed her a pink piece of paper and walked off. Leaving only the netted security door exposed, Dora walked away and sat on the living room couch beside disorderly Emberly,

"What is that?" Ada asked, extending her arm.

"A list of questions," Dora answered, passing it to her.

The list went on to two pages, asking questions like, "How many residents?" and proceeded to ask for the names and ages of those residents. As necessary as it seemed, it also felt a bit invasive.

"I don't trust it…" Jolyn said, reading over his sister's shoulder.

"Why not?" Dora asked.

"I don't know. You know there's always those movies where the government always spirals out of control with their power and stuff like that. There's always some truth to those kinds of things."

"I can't believe I'm saying this, but I actually agree with Jolyn…" Ada said, passing the paper back to her mother.

"Well…" Dora gave a long sigh before replying. She searched for a pen inside of her handbag, grabbed her reading glasses and began to fill out the form, "What can we do?"

Jolyn made his rather ignorant presumptions of the army clear, but after counting how many of his neighbor's fled, he knew he wasn't the only person who shared the same feelings. In fact, he thought was best to harmlessly sit in it. He probably wouldn't admit it aloud, but the National Guard _did_ awake a sensation of feeling protected because, for the first time in hours, he was able to separate himself from his family and walk upstairs. He slowly walked into his bedroom and locked the door behind him before throwing himself on his mattress. Almost as if he had fallen into a trance, he was plagued by the grotesque images of what happened in the subway and what he saw at the hospital. The images flipped through his head like an endless montage with filters colored by thick, running blood. He watched the ceiling, staring into oblivion.

Ada exited the living room next, hinting to everyone to avoid running the water because she was going to shower. She walked upstairs and turned directly into the bathroom. She softly closed the door behind her and securely locked it to avoid anyone from accidentally walking in on her. She gently pushed aside the sliding door for her shower and turned on the hot water alone. Over time, the building heat began to steam up the windows and mirrors. Sitting on the toilet in her undergarments, Ada buried her face in her palms and wept along with the harmonic thrumming of her shower.

Emberly was the last to leave. She got out of her seat and unplugged her cell phone from the charger, realizing that her phone stopped charging a long time ago when the power cut out. Although it was still in the back of her mind, she had also gotten over her fear walking through the kitchen. In her mind, she didn't know what else Joy was capable of, but it took a lot for eavesdropping to realize that she was smarter and faster. Marigold merrily followed Emberly to the backyard, normally sniffing the back of her jeans. Emberly opened the security door, letting Merigold exit before she did. Briefly looking down, she picked her head up and noticed three soldiers collaborating to pick up an unseeable mass on the ground in the neighbor's yard. Emberly ran down the steps and strolled way across the yard and into a skinny path beside the musty garage. On the other end of the path was a gated fence that looked out into the backyard alley of the first couple of row houses. She held the fence, watching the army soldiers carry out what looked like a hidden body on a stretcher. As much as Emberly knew it was right to look away, something inside of her kept telling her otherwise. As a small gust of wind picked up, it prompted the covers to lift, subtly revealing a dangling arm.

Meanwhile, Dora walked into the dining room to retrieve some candles from the fancy cabinet that held all of her most precious platters and glassware. She lit them, placing at least two in each area.


	5. Episode 5 - Turn off the TV

It had been two days since the military arrival and the entire country was now under the State of Emergency. Things had gotten really bad, on the outside, from what it sounded like. It was protocol to keep it under wraps, but it was an abnormality so extreme that it had everyone talking and the news spread pretty fast. The rest of Queens, as expected, deteriorated more and more. But the main question people were desperate to know was by _how much_? Unsolicited news from an unknown origin had spread, claiming that civilians were certainly dying at the malfunctioning hands of others were let their true human nature unravel. Those 'restricted' areas that the military was referring to? That's where most of the crimes and infestations were happening. As much as people wanted to believe that it was for their own safety, it kept them ignorant to how treacherous outside the quarantine zone had become.

The army, on the other hand, was doing the best they could at providing supplies to residents who needed them. Even the medical corps stopped every now and then to pick up the injured and elderly and deliver them to a mobile facility nearby.

Oddly enough, Arne was a stranger who frequently stopped by Dora's house without any direct order from his superiors. He would just come by to speak to say hi and break into conversation with her. He already met her children and Emberly, but he rarely ever saw Jolyn since he had locked himself in his room for days like some turned-in prisoner.

One evening, Arne stopped by when Dora was making one of her Caribbean meals and he became fascinated with the aroma of it. Arne mentioned always wanting to go to the Caribbean and that it was a task on his bucket list as something to do with his family. But considering the direction the world took, that would most likely never happen. All Dora could do was give him a taste of it—literally,

"You can stop by tomorrow if you'd like. I'll cook a nice meal just for you," Dora offered.

Arne smiled from ear to ear, showing teeth no paler than his skin. He accepted the offer and the two privately set a time and date. He merrily walked down Dora's porch and exited her yard, closing her gate like she constantly reminded any stranger who exited her garden. A colleague he was randomly partnered up with due to Ms. Torres' absence—someone he barely knew—noticed his irremovable smirk every time he'd visit, for the past couple of days.

"You're making a big mistake, buddy" The soldier spoke, having the rumored New Yorker's accent that outsiders expected _every_ New Yorker to have.

Dora lacked one and so did her children, but this guy showcased it with pride, heavily thickening his A's and W's. Bunched up on the side of his left cheek was what Arne assumed was chewing gum, but he revealed it to be cheap tobacco, spitting a dark geyser of saliva from his mouth. The red-head made a face.

"Excuse me?" Arne answered calmly, offended by the input.

"James Stuart. Call me Jimmy. We haven't properly met," James greeted, offering a handshake.

"Arne Rogers," he shook back.

"I'm not trying to pry or nothin', but you'll spare yourself the heartache by not getting too close to that family."

"It's harmless friendliness. That's all," Arne defended.

They both paused at the corner of the block that stopped at an intersection. James pointed at another soldier a couple of yards down the block, across the street,

"That guy over there? That's Briggs," Arne followed James' secretive pointing as he carried on talking, "He got close too a guy out in Hell's Kitchen. _Too_ close if you ask me," James uttered, "Anyway, he found out that he, uh, turned this morning," Arne was shocked, but—like the army taught—he kept composure, "His assigned house, he had to end it. So he was transferred here this mornin'."

"What's that got to do with me?" Arne quizzed.

"You and Torres were assigned to that home right?"

"...Yeah?"

Arne answered as if he didn't know what James was implying, but even James knew that Arne was smarter than that,

"All I'm saying is that if you keep talking to that family, you'll find out…"

James conjured up a wad of tobacco mixed spit and spat on the sidewalk. He tossed his rifle over his shoulder and walked back towards the direction whence they came.

* * *

One day, Ada decided to take a walk through her neighborhood for personal matters. It was a refreshing day despite all this unseeable infection roaming around. The breezes were nice, having the flourished tree leaves clamor amongst one another as they shook and rattled with one another.

In the meantime, she also took a stroll just to see how much of the neighborhood the army had succeeded in occupying and maintaining. The main boulevard, which was about five blocks away had been blocked off by the sudden appearance of some recently installed gates—referred to as 'checkpoints' by the army. Each block obtained by the military had one from what she could gather. Ada cursed to herself and looked down at her cell phone, opening the conversation between her and Carlos.

 _The next block is blocked off too!_ She quickly texted him.

 _Shit. I see it._ He responded.

 _Screw it. I'm gonna try to convince my way through,_ he said seconds afterward.

"Shit…" Ada muttered, already figuring that was a bad idea.

Ada became apprehensive and immediately ran towards the fences blocking off the street, having her ponytail pendulum with her run. Being only one block away, she could see just outside the fence was a pair of soldiers equipped with what Ada assumed was AK-47's. They were sitting atop their army trucks like nation-owned hood ornaments. One was bald and bearded, meanwhile the other had a buzz cut and shades. The sight of their firearms wrung Ada'a gut in a set of different directions. She had never been this close to such powerful firearms, and being apart of the generation that she was, she was staunchly against guns and gun violence. Them being in the hands of experienced men should've made her a lot calmer, but it didn't.

She walked towards the rusty fence, seeing Carlos across the street on the next block over from where the gate separated Ada's neighborhood. He waved at Ada, hoping that the indication that he knew someone from the inside might be able to play into his favor. Unfortunately, it only heightened their suspicions. The soldiers hopped off their trucks and approached Carlos quicker than he could step down from the freshly paved curb.

"What's your business here?" The bearded one asked.

He held the gun almost as if his finger was itching to pull the trigger.

"He's with me!" Ada rattled the gate.

The soldier with the shades looked at her momentarily and looked away without giving her any response. Ada couldn't hear the rest of their exchange, but she read their actions. Carlos reached into his pocket and pulled out his New York State driver's license. Concluding that it wasn't enough, the soldier pocketed it and withdrew zip ties from the same pocket. Ada whined to herself, as she saw Carlos struggle between surrendering or getting shot in the back. She wanted neither,

"Carlos!" Ada called, "Please! Please! I know him! He can stay with us!"

Again, the shaded soldier briefly looked at her and watched his partner prepare to drag Carlos away. As if luck were on her side, she turned and saw a soldier with a familiar march—it was Arne. Ada quickly ran after him. Crossing the street, she shouted his name about three or four times, already having grabbed his attention by the second time she called him,

"Ada!" He happily welcomed her with opened arms. Not necessarily for a hug, but for the acceptance of her coming into his space. However, he could observe that she was flurried and frustrated, "What's wrong, is your mom okay?"

"Those assholes!" she spoke, flailing her arms in the direction of the fence, "They're arresting my boyfriend, where are they taking him?" Arne looked up, taking notice of exactly what was occurring. He stammered, having a faint mumble escape his narrow lips, "Arne!" Ada straightened him up.

His eyes shot back to Ada,

"They're gonna quarantine him."

"Quarantine...?" Ada repeated.

"Yeah…" he replied softly.

"And do what…?" Ada asked. But Arne failed at trying to provide an answer quick enough. The implication of quarantine being so secretive, that not even a fellow private knew what was going on inside, made Ada sick to her stomach thinking of the things they could put Carlos through. She already knew that prisons and inmates were regularly kept in the poorest conditions, so she couldn't imagine a temporary quarantine station and how it'd affect Carlos. If she let them take him now, this could possibly be the last time she ever saw him. Who knows how many others would be tossed in there with him.

"Please, Arne, make them let him go,"

"I-I can't," he stammered.

"Yes! Yes, you can, you're one of them. You have more power than I do," she pleaded, sounding exactly that—powerless.

He shook his head, completely blinded sided by such an inopportune situation. He thought about the worst that could happen if he got himself involved, and the prospective results weren't that troubling—for him at least. He'd be alright either way. Arne walked towards the fence, giving a hard and loud whistle as he got closer,

"YO!" Arne called out.

They both looked back, but, unsurprisingly, the lazy one with the shades was dispatched to relay the message. He walked directly to Arne, ignoring Ada's harrowing glares. As the two chatted about the predicament, she momentarily looked over at Carlos, who was looking back at her in distress. She could tell he was pending breakage. He was getting all of his personal belongings snatched from him: Cell phone, keys, wallet. She adjusted her attention back to the soldier and listened to Arne articulately vouch for her and Carlos' honor, giving and claiming whatever excuse and accountability to get Carlos through the gates. Suddenly, Mr. Shades summoned his bearded friend over. Once the bearded guy laid his eyes on Ada, he could already predict what the situation was about. He resistantly walked over to the fence, irresponsibly tugging Carlos behind him. Once they were no more than a foot away from one another, Ada held the fence with her thin fingers, exposing her lilac painted nails.

"Are you hurt?" Ada asked concerned.

Carlos began to answer but was yanked behind like a dog on a leash. Ada glared at the bearded troll and resisted the urge to spit at him. She knew her place in this situation and she was wise enough to remain in it.

"...Yes, you can tell the captain that I took him in. I'll check him for bites and everything."

The bearded soldier unhappily complied with Arne's request and clipped Carlos free with a pair of small shears. One of them walked to the far end of the fence, unlocked it and slid it open. Carlos was allowed to freely walk past the fence just before it was quickly closed behind him. The lovers walked into each other's arms and hugged each other tightly. After they released one another, Ada watched Arne walking away,

"Thank you, Arne!" Ada thanked.

Arne nodded with a smile and tipped his hat forward, walking towards James who was waiting where they were previously stopped.

She returned her ineffective glares back at the soldiers on the other side of the fence, however, Ada became the one slightly intimidated by their eyeballing. Quickly, she guided Carlos in her direction by pulling him by the wrist as they quickly paced down the street.

Within a matter of minutes, they were both sauntering down the same block of Dora's home. They were around the middle of the block at this point, seeing the individual houses that were so different from their own. But while Carlos and Ada walked closer to their house, they noticed three armed soldiers entering the yard of a known residence in the neighborhood. One guard walked onto the sidewalk, blocking Ada and Carlos' path. He stuck his arm out, ordering both young adults to remain at a distance.

One of the soldiers, who was Torres, was knocking on the screen door of the house while the other soldiers walked into the yard, obviously looking around for some sort of indicator that the neighbor was home. After seeing one of the curtains move around, it was safe to say that they were. They were demanding that they'd be let in or else they would force their way in. Although it was probably protocoled to ensure some kind of safety for the other residents, it was still something that didn't sit well with the witnesses in the neighborhood. Building up to the climax of the moment, one of the soldiers kicked open the neighbor's door like it was nothing more than flimsy plastic. Ada flinched at the sound of it meanwhile Carlos seemed relatively intrigued by the situation. He took out his cellphone and began to film.

It was an older man who was an owner of the house, and he was shouting and sobbing hysterically. All of the other neighbors, who were made up of people from various regions of the world, were all bunched up on the sidewalks, watching their neighbor's home become invaded. Sooner or later, two soldiers walked out restraining one of _them_ —the dead. What Jolyn dubbed as 'reanimated'. It was in the form of an elderly man whom everyone knew by the surname, Mr. Knotts.

The owner of the home, who was his son, didn't show any resistance because he knew that there was no saving his father, and although Ada knew it too, she didn't want to believe it. She was in denial about _them_ no longer having an option to be saved.

Ada gasped along with the startled murmurs of the other neighbors. She slowly hid behind Carlos as they were cautiously backed away by the soldier maintaining the sidewalks,

"I know him…" Ada muttered, studying his rabid behavior. Carlos looked down at her, which she failed to reciprocate due to being so stunned, "He's lived on this block longer than I can remember..."

Eventually, the elder was violently thrown to the ground and given a conclusive finisher to the head with a glock that popped everyone's ears within a twenty-foot radius. The owner of the house, sat on his front porch being consoled by the other soldiers who were reminding him that it _had_ to be done. Immediately, other soldiers in the vicinity were contacted via communicator and came running to the scene, taping off the household and forcefully removing the man owner of the residence. Ada and Carlos were shocked, watching him be cuffed and thrown into the back of a vehicle. After a couple of minutes, the couple was redirected to across the streets to avoid passing directly through the scene.

Once they reached the other side, they just couldn't stop looking back Ada grew guilty of also harboring someone of the same essence in their basement.

Stopping directly in front of the Chadwell house, Carlos and Ada stared down the block, seeing shrunken bodies proactively clean and investigate the killing-scene. She finally turned and looked up at Carlos, desperate to question a topic that was probably inappropriate, but in need of instant coverage,

"How's your mom?" She inquired delicately, crossing her arms.

"She's, uh…she's the same," Carlos nodded, tight-lipped, "Your aunt?"

Instead of telling, She thought it would be better to show him all with some kind of plan behind it all. Having exposure to this kind of stuff was traumatizing, sure, but having constant exposure made one a bit more tolerant of it and Ada figured it was something that she needed to remind herself every morning whether she liked the thought of it or not.

Ada entered her home, only having to unlock the security door, seeing that their main door was open (along with multiple windows) to air out the decaying funk in the house. Catching Carlos' eye, he saw Emberly sitting on the couch, reading a book. He waved at her.

"The smell's gotten worse," Ada whispered, pretending to look around casually, "My mom hasn't said anything about it. She'll be devastated if they drag aunt Joy out and do what they did to that guy…"

"Ada?" Dora called from the kitchen.

"Hey mom, Carlos is here!" Ada responded.

Dora walked out of the kitchen and into the living room, surprising Carlos with a stainless steel cooking fork,

"Hi, Carlos," Dora greeted. Again, lacking her usual enthusiasm before all of this occurred. She wasn't the same energetic woman anymore. She was depressed, "Have you eaten?"

"Uh, no, actually…" Carlos said, burying his hands in his pockets.

Dora didn't exactly know what Carlos was going through, but her daughter had given her an idea. Therefore, Carlos was practically smothered by both women. While his, hopefully, future mother-in-law offered him food from last night's leftovers, his girlfriend pulled him into the center of the living room to spread a thin layer of vicks vaporub around the wings, septum, and tip of his nose: A trick she had learned from doing some research on dealing with the smell of dead bodies online. Soon after, he was sat at the table and offered a large plate of traditional West Indian food, mixed with rice, beans, chicken, smoked turkey, and broccoli accompanied with a large glass of fruit punch. Not technically breakfast or brunch, but you had to make do with what you had, and Carlos had no problem with it seeing that he gobbled it down to half a plate in minutes.

Ada sat at the table with Carlos, thoroughly enjoying every bite he took. She adored that he was left-handed. He held his fork like a toddler just learning to use it with their thumb. Carlos smiled back.

"Where's Jolyn?" He asked through a mouthful, seeing that he was the only one absent from the floor.

"He's been locked up in his room for the past couple days now. The only time he gets out is to use the bathroom," Ada sighed.

"I've been meaning to ask you two, what was that gunshot that I heard earlier?" Dora unintentionally interrupted.

Ada had difficulty enlightening her mother on the dilemma that occurred down the block, but she ultimately got the endgame across, hinting to her mother that their home could be next in line for this random home invasion. A couple of bites away from finishing his plate, Carlos pulled his phone out and heedfully offered Dora the opportunity to see all that he recorded. Dora accepted and took Carlos' phone to the living room sofa. She watched it, calling God's name and muttering expressions to herself in her native language. In the last few seconds of the video, a soldier is shown threatening Carlos to put his phone away or else he'll break it. She played it a second time, speaking over the audio,

"Don't they have a place for people like them?"

"The only way is to kill them," Carlos said hesitantly, yet putting it bluntly.

Ada's bright eyes widened. Although she knew the ugly truth deep down, she had to play devil's advocate,

"Shouldn't there...be, like, medication or a vaccine…?"

Carlos looked somewhat disappointed at his bright girlfriend. _Why choose now to act so foolish?_ He felt. He cleared his throat before revealing what he was about to confess,

"The army quarantined the apartment the other day. My kitchen window looks directly out the back of the quarantine zone and I can see into the backyards of houses across the tracks behind my apartment. I see people dying out there, Ada. Everyday. I hear people screaming and yelling every night. Those people—those things out there? I've seen what they can do and they're killing people. Killing people who are like us. People try to fight back but...they just can't do it. And I think it's because they think they're still people, but...they're not. They don't attack others who are like them, they only come after like us. I-I don't know how the infection spreads, but they are with us anymore. They're...gone. My mom," Carlos took a deep breath, "My mom is gone..."

Carlos' intention was to use his story as a euphemism to deliver a message about their aunt. Ada knew it, but he wasn't so sure if Dora did. He tried to sound as empathetic as possible, trying to avoid the sense that he was mocking Dora and Ada rather than trying to show her the unfavorable reality of it all. Dora watched him from the couch in silence, feeling his pain and identifying with the anguish on his face. It was something she had recognized as a mask in her bedroom mirror. For whatever reason, she could tell that Carlos hadn't slept or eaten properly in days.

After a long pause, Ada looked over her shoulder, having her curled ponytail flip over her shoulder,

"Mom?" Dora looked over at her, "What are we going to do? What if they catch us?"

Dora sighed and looked directly out the window, seeing the multiple soldiers chatter and enjoy one another's company outside.

"Don't worry. They won't."

* * *

Just as promised, Arne stopped by on his lunch break to grab dinner from Dora's home. For the past couple of days, Dora found herself getting frequent visits from Arne. Like Jolyn warned, she was confused whether it was the forming of a genuine friendship or part of some covert surveillance. Either way, Dora could have used the company. Even if there was an initial falsehood to their relationship, it wasn't too late to modify that. Dora thought that having a soldier as an ally in a time like this could really benefit her and her children. Realistically, Dora _was_ being an opportunist whether she liked to admit it or not. But, in the long run, they both got what they wanted: Dora was given special privileges and Arne kept a close eye and an even fuller stomach.

Arne put his last spoonful in his mouth and slouched back at the family table. He patted his stomach while his eyes rolled to the back of his head, entirely satisfied by the hearty meal he consumed. He stared down at his plate, tempted to lick any excess crumbs off of his dish.

Dora was a woman too prideful in her cooking. She was her own critic when it came to her cuisine. And even if she knew her cooking was done well, she still asked "is it good?" just to see someone respond with an anticipated nod. Yes, people had different palettes, but bringing up the question _after_ someone finished their entire place was just superfluous.

"Did you enjoy it?" Dora immaturely inquired, walking past the dining room table and retrieving Arne's paper plate.

"I loved it," Arne answered, wiping the corners of his mouth with a napkin, "So good."

Dora relished to the kitchen with a faint smile on her face and dumped the doubled paper plate into the trash bin.

Arne looked into the living room, only seeing Emberly on the couch with her face buried in her Nintendo DSi. At the beginning of it all, Arne was extremely doubtful that children would want to step out of the house during a time like this, but, boy, was he incorrect. From reports all over, teenagers had a natural knack of disobeying orders and would wander into restricted areas or sneak into vacant homes day in and out all for the purpose of having the kind of 'fun' one sought like it was their last day on Earth.

"Where's the rest of the kids?" Arne asked curiously.

"Well, Jolyn's locked in his bedroom, Ada and Carlos are sitting out in the backyard with the dog," Dora informed.

Arne's face changed,

"You have a dog too?"

Dora nodded,

"Yes."

Arne folded his hands on the table and looked down at his hands, hiding something from her only because he thought it would ruin the fabulous atmosphere they both created.

"Arne, do you have any children?" questioned Dora, getting comfortable becoming comfortable.

"Just one. He's in Canada with his mother right now. He's Twelve."

"Wow, Canada? Isn't that far?

"Depends on what part. I lived in Montreal which isn't too far from here. It's about a six-hour drive give or take."

"Are you and the mother together?" Dora curiously asked.

"Divorced," Arne sighed deeply, "We thought we knew each other. Turns out we didn't," Dora understood and couldn't comment much because she knew that divorce was a tough topic for relatively new parents, "Alright…" Arne groaned. He stood out of his chair and stretched his arms into the air, "I'd better get going so I can rub it in everyone's faces that I just ate some amazing food."

Dora chuckled lightly at the comment, somewhat gloating.

Arne walked to the exit and opened the security door. Stepping halfway down from the doorway, he was chased by Dora. She forgot to give him the container of food that she packaged for him in order to eat later if he ever got hungry. Showing signs of extreme gratitude, he took the plastic bag with a wide smile.

"No problem. That's for getting Carlos here safe," she strategically said, "Hey, I've been meaning to ask you," Dora eased into it, "Carlos and Ada said on her way from picking him up, something happened to one of the neighbors. Do you know what happened?"

Arne's smile faded, showing the faint creases in the corners of his lips.

"Uh, yeah," he put simply. Briefly avoiding to look her in the eyes, he mistakenly looked back, staring at a good mother who had the right to know what was going on her neighborhood. He cleared his throat before resuming, "Yeah. One of the men down the block had a gravely ill father. Around eighty-two years old. He got a concussion in a riot and didn't bother informing us. We never even knew he had a father."

"Shucks," Dora exclaimed, "Why do they do that, nah?"

"Sometimes fear. Y'know?" After Dora nodded, he continued, "So...his father died from his injuries, and he turned. Whether he was bitten or not? I don't know."

"What about the son?"

Arne shrugged,

"I-I don't know. I'm not authorized to give out that kind of information," Dora understood, having their conversation end on a gloomy note Arne wanted to avoid so desperately. During these times, there seemed to be too much of it in one day and he was beginning to believe that it was inevitable. He turned away and stomped down the steps. Just as Dora closed the door behind him, she heard him say her name moments after turning away. She returned to the door and looked at him through the screen, "I suggest you do something about that smell…" Arne said boldly.

Dora was nearly knocked off balance, but retained a spurious smile,

"It's probably the trash…"

"Dora. Get rid of it. Soon," He said slowly, "Having every single window open? It's good for getting rid of the smell, but it looks suspicious at a time like this. And all it's gonna do is attract the flies. The really small flies and the really big ones," he hinted. Arne looked around as far as his surroundings could take him, pinpointing other soldiers around the neighborhood with his green eyes before looking back to Dora from the corner of his eye, "Understand?"

Wiped clear of any smiles, Dora gulped with an unsure nod. She watched Arne exit her yard and vanish down the sidewalk that wrapped around their block. Following his formidable advice, she shut both doors.

Suddenly, certain rooms in the house had lit up—indicating that the electricity had been reinstalled. More notably, the roaring muffles of Joy's television started back up.

* * *

There were three light taps on Jolyn's bedroom door. Considering that he impressively exceeded the average amount of sleep for a human being, he was having difficulty keeping his eyes shut for the rest of the night. He turned over, but before he could even allow the said knocker inside, the door opened. Ada walked in, flipping on the light switch,

"Nice...that light's are back on?" Jolyn said, with sleep in his voice.

His sister by three minutes revealed a full plate of his mother's food with a clear topper. Jolyn sat up while she made herself comfortable on the edge of his mattress, She passed him the plate,

"I'm not really hungry."

"Just try to eat something, okay?" She kindly pleaded, "How are you feeling?" Ada asked, looked at him with concern. Her head was slightly tilted.

"Fine," Jolyn lied, putting a forkful of meat and rice into his mouth.

Like a mother knew her children, a sister could also possess a maternal sense when it came to her relatives. Sometimes they were effortlessly better than their mothers. She knew he was lying just by the simplicity of those words. She reached over and ruffled his curly hair, just happy to be interacting with her brother after what felt like ages. From what she knew, sometimes it took relating to someone in order to get them to open up. She wasn't sure how much closer she could get with her brother, but at this moment, the strength behind their bond just didn't feel like it was enough,

"I've really been needing someone to talk to…" Ada started.

Jolyn looked up from his plate,

"Yeah? About what?"

"I don't know," Ada said, making herself more comfortable on his bed, "...Stuff. About whatever the hell is happening to us."

Jolyn chewed his food and shrugged,

"I'm just as lost as you are."

Randomly, there were sounds of multiple footsteps climbing the house stairs. Two figures walked into Jolyn's view from the end of the corridor: One tall, the other short. Jolyn was surprised when Carlos, accompanied by Emberly, walked into the light of his bedroom.

"Oh, hey Carlos," Jolyn greeted in surprise.

Carlos leaned on the door frame. Jolyn turned his attention back to his plate and became embarrassed, wondering what Carlos thought of him being locked away in his room all day. He knew Carlos already perceived him as a coward, so he was afraid of what more this situation could add. Emberly welcomed herself inside and sat in a wooden chair that was in the corner of Jolyn's bedroom. While the young adults indulged themselves in a moderately interesting conversation about the reanimated: How it started, bites, how to kill them. Emberly curled up in a chair and listened to them in silence. Not considering her company, she slowly broke out into a cry.

"What's wrong?" Jolyn asked, being the first to glimpse her.

Ada instinctively opened her arms and Emberly ran into them, vocalizing unclear words about the whereabouts of her father. Through mumbles and spasmodic breaths, she went on about how she tried calling her father all day and hadn't gotten one response from him. For a man who loved to talk a little too much, it was definitely something to worry about. And as much as Emberly yearned for her father's arms and scent, it was just too dangerous for her to leave the quarantine zone, no matter how many time she asked Carlos if he could drop her home. Ada shushed, trying to comfort her as much as she could. Overall, the thought of their disabled uncle being out there alone frightened them just as much as it did Emberly. Due to their maturity, they just did a better job of concealing it.

"I'll go," Carlos blurted.

Ada and Emberly both looked up at him with an obvious contrast between them. As hopeful as it made Emberly feel the need to stop crying, Ada looked at him as if he were joking. She gave a mirthless smile and rolled her eyes,

"You aren't serious?" Jolyn asked.

Carlos started to stammer because he wasn't completely sure. All he knew is that in the amount of time that he and Emberly spent together, he came to know an endearing young girl deserving of everything. Unsure of what kind of profound effect the result would have on Emberly, it would ultimately shape her and prepare her for what was to come. Plus, she had the right to know what happened to her father. Seeing that Carlos lost both his father _and_ mother, he felt like he had to do this. Being here, he was probably the only one who could help her get through this.

"No, he isn't," Ada answered for him.

"I'll be quick," Carlos said.

"Carlos…" Ada started, resting her palm on her forehead.

"Ada…" He mocked.

"We have _no_ _clue_ how it looks out there! We hear gunshots miles away every minute now."

"It's not that bad..."

"This is New York City!" Ada being Ada, she used statistics to back herself up, "Hundreds of people die in a day. Imagine that, tenfold with this infection making things worse."

"I can take care of myself!" Carlos defended.

They both argued with one another, leaving Jolyn to decide whose argument was the best. However, he looked at Emberly who was also in the middle of it. Ultimately, he decided that it was best to take her side. The admiration she had towards Carlos was hazy but...it was there nonetheless. The way she looked at him was indescribable, yet said so much.

"I'll go with you," Jolyn sighed. He couldn't believe it, "You can't just leave without a guide, so..."

"NO!" Ada shouted even louder, "Why do you two have to do this?!"

"Then what do you suggest, Ada?!" Jolyn said, having Ada feel double-teamed.

"W-we can ask Arne!"

"We can't make Arne do everything, Ada," Carlos stressed, recalling this noon.

Eventually, the arguing between all three of them grew into an uproar, which did nothing but make Emberly even more uncomfortable. She exited the room, leaving the door wide open. Dora entered the room sometime right after, using her even stronger voice to stalemate the confusion,

" _Why are you doing all this YELLING IN MY HOUSE_?!" Dora intervened, shutting everyone up, "You're going to draw attention to this house. Do you want that?"

They all stared back at her as she waited for a reply.

"They want to sneak out of the neighborhood," Ada snitched.

Dora fully stepped into the room, standing beside Carlos at the doorway,

"For what?" She said, returning to a mellow tone.

Carlos remained in silence, respectively remembering that he was just a guest and was in no position to bargain the rules of a woman who fed and cleaned him,

"We want to see if Uncle Mikey is okay," Jolyn said.

Dora answered with a soft _hmm_ , leaving the teenagers in a state of eagerness. For a woman who called her loved ones frequently, she was already aware of the unknown whereabouts of her baby brother and it frightened her. With lingering thoughts on her sister, she wouldn't forgive the world if it did the same to her brother,

"Go," Dora allowed, "But make it quick…"

"Mom!" Ada scoffed in a shrill cry.

"Go. Don't make any stops. Go straight there and come right back if you find it."

Ada watched her mother, completely disappointed by her mother's emotional thinking rather than her rational ones. Ada had complete faith in her brother and Carlos and she knew they were both smart with their own strengths, but it was what was _out_ _there_ that she knew nothing about.

Being a martial artist, studying your opponent was something crucial, but nothing disoriented her more than an enemy she couldn't see.

Jolyn and Carlos prepared themselves to hit the road. It was already past ten o'clock at night, therefore it was past curfew two hours ago. Jolyn dressed all in black, wearing slim fit bottoms a black hoodie and his typical Vans. Carlos was practically set, but almost set foot outside with a tank top, which was extremely dangerous. Recollecting the attack in the subway, Jolyn gave Carlos a disregarded, red hoodie of his own that was too large for him to begin with. He emptied his school bag and replaced his school books with a pair of flashlights and four bottles of water. With the entire house purposely put back in complete darkness to avoid suspicion, the boys both wore surgical masks, snuck out of the backyard and jumped the fence to prevent being seen by the soldiers parked in front of their block.

Before being welcomed into the block, Carlos had previously circled the neighborhood to examine which parts of the neighborhood had been caged up. When he realized that the quarantine zone dyed off about seven blocks out, with a skeleton crew to match, Carlos wisely left his van parked in a random driveway and travel the rest of the way by foot.

Sneaking through alleys and sprinting across back streets behind soldier's backs, the boys encountered a lot of other regular people out in the streets. As it turned out, the army just sucked at their job. Or maybe they just didn't care since anyone outside of the zone was no longer their responsibility.

Finally reaching their destination quicker than they thought they could, Jolyn patiently waited to be let into the passenger's side.

"What the hell!" Carlos exclaimed.

Jolyn looked through his window and saw Carlos a couple of feet away, examining something on the side of his car.

"Is everything okay?" Jolyn asked, attempting to peer over the hood from his side.

"Assholes tagged my car!" He cursed, "Look!"

He called Jolyn over. He sauntered over to Carlos' side and read the words 'BLAZED' in big letters in black graffiti,

"Yep...they were blazed alright."

Carlos rolled his eyes, quickly getting over the smudged mess on his car. However, they heard a notable growl coming down one of the streets. Turning his attention to it, Carlos saw incoming lights driving down a path. Carlos repeatedly nudged Jolyn towards the other side of the car, where they both crouched and hid. As if they were hiding from some sort mechanical predator, the sputtering military vehicle turned into their street, having its headlights beam through the bottom of Carlos' car. The truck drove down the block and turned into another,

"Shit they weren't patrolling this morning."

"Probably housekeeping. Taking out whatever reanimated that are close to the neighborhood," Jolyn assumed.

Declaring the coast clear, Carlos ran into his car and allowed Jolyn to enter. Carlos started the car and reversed, heading in the opposite direction of the army vehicle.

* * *

At the Chadwell's house, the rancid smell of Joy's body intensified and swarmed the entire house no matter how much they tried blocking the basement door spaces with towels and duct tape. Now that her television had powered back on, the ongoing static from her television was becoming irritable and reminded Dora of the _Poltergeist_ film from 1982. She sat on the living room sofa, deep in thought. She thought about Carlos and his lecture, but two words rang loudest in her head: _They're gone._

If anything, Arne's heedful voice was the tipping point for Dora. So she grabbed a black trash bag from her kitchen cupboards, a pair of yellow latex cleaning gloves, a surgical mask and a shower cap. She cut holes in the trash bag and wore it as a top over her clothing. She taped the ends of her gloves to her sleeves and did the same with her shoes, socks, and pants, wrapping her wrists and ankles five times over.

Hearing all the commotion going on downstairs, Ada walked in on her mother,

"Mom?" Ada naturally called, seeing the back of an unrecognized figure. She braced herself for some sort of burglary. Dora turned around, slightly jumpy. Ada turned on the dining room light to get a clearer look at her mother, "What are you doing?"

Dora looked down at her attire, hoping that it was enough to give the answer. But it wasn't.

"I have to. I can't have her stay like that..." Dora couldn't finish, fighting back tears, "It's been bothering me. I thought that God gave us all the answers—about death and the afterlife. But what about her? Is she already in heaven, or is she trapped on Earth? Or...maybe this is just hell."

Ada clenched her own shirt, hearing such unbelievably chilling words escape her mother's god-fearing lips. It was curiosity from someone else, but it was watered-down blaspheme when it came to a saint like Dora. Ada stared at her, scared that her mother might have lost her mind.

"Do you need my help…?"

"No. Not from you," Dora softly shook her head, maintaining eye contact with her wisest child, "You're my daughter. And she's my sister. I'll take care of it."

A _long_ silence came between them, but it made sense. it was apart of the dialogue; like a tune to a song,

"What if you can't do it…?"

"I'll just try again."

Afterward. Dora requested that Ada sneak into her brother's room and retrieve the gerber ghoststrike knife that his older sister had given him for Christmas. He was foolish to not take it with him, but it worked out for Dora in the end. Never foreseeing the day she'd be handing her mother a knife in this circumstance, Dora walked into the kitchen and rested her palm on the basement door. She closed her eyes and said a silent prayer that asked for guidance and forgiveness,

"Whatever you do. Don't come down. Understand?"

Ada's eyes watered,

"I can't promise you that," she shook her head and sniffed.

Dora rested her palm on her daughter's shoulder,

"If anything happens to me Ada, I don't want to put that burden on you. You're the most responsible and I want you to grab Emberly and leave."

Ada sobbed, trying her hardest to retain herself. Overall, she nodded, promising her mother that she'd do exactly as she was told.

Dora's hand slid down Ada's arm and they held hands for a moment. Ada could feel her hands shake, and in return, her own did the same. Dora turned away and pushed the basement door open, entering and closing it behind her. Ada sat in front of the door, listening to her mother's cautious steps carry her down. A couple of minutes later, the television was turned off. Simultaneously, Ada's wheezes and whimpers also faltered into silence. She crawled to the door and listened closely, startled by the frequent sounds of snarling and active grunts. Things were being knocked over and broken like a whirlwind was unleashed in the basement. Glass shattered, sounding like a hundred wine glasses hitting the floor. The fighting would stop momentarily but would resume in a matter of minutes. However, the same sounds would recur on a loop for the rest of the night.

* * *

Ada wasn't sure how, but she managed to fall asleep with her back resting on the basement entrance. Like previous nights, she wished to wake up from a coma consisting of this nightmare, but it seemed like that just wasn't the case. Quickly regaining focus, she placed her ear against the door. She heard soft and distant sounds that couldn't be made out but overall sounded like something that could be made by either Dora or Joy. Either way, even if it came from Dora, her condition was what mattered in the end. Ada walked across the room and rummaged through the silverware drawer beside the sink, pulling out the biggest knife she could find.

She let herself into the basement and left the door open behind her. She crept down the stairs freezing every time the stairs made a soft _creeaak_. Finally, she stepping off the last step and turned the corner to get a full glance at the rest of the basement. The bathroom, at the end of the room, was the only source of light the entire dimmed room had, therefore things were very unclear. Ada saw a figure that matched her mother's sitting on a small stool. Her garbage bag was removed and her shower cap was tossed on the table beside her. Somewhat looking around Dora, Ada could make out a body laying flat on the floor in front of her. Squinting her eyes, Ada noticed the small knife fixed in its temple. She gasped and quickly positioned herself in a spot where she could no longer see the body. She began to take steps back, puzzled by what she had seen and was completely against the unstoppable piecing of it.

"Ada?" Dora called her, sounding congested.

She fought to respond to her mother,

"...Yes?"

"I have a secret," Dora said. Ada didn't answer. Instead, she waited for her mother's confession. And just as anticipated, Dora carried on, "I grew up in a small town in my home country; densely populated and right by the forest. We had small houses back then. It was like a hill, and the houses were built on the sides and far apart from each other. The neighbors were nice and friendly, but right the very tip-top of the hill, there was a small house everyone was told to stay away from. A woman lived in that house and she was rumored to be a witch. A soucouyant (soo-coo-yah) is what people called her. The legend was that it was an old witch who could remove her skin, shapeshift and suck human blood. But the most people said they saw was others seeking her service to heal the sick or bring loved ones back from the dead. Voodoo." Ada could feel the hairs rise on her forearms and the back of her neck. Dora went on, "I didn't believe it. But one night, when I was about your age, I went there with Joy and some friends to spy on her. She was with a lifeless man and she was doing something to his body. I'm not sure what, but she looked over and saw us. We all ran as fast as we could, but I ended up tripping and got left behind. I tried crying for help, but my friends couldn't hear me," she made motions with her hands, giving visualizations of it, "When I turned around, I saw that same tall man. I don't know if he was drugged, possessed...or what. But I just remembered the dullness in his eyes, almost like a corpse. He tried grabbing me and fought him with all my might but he was just too strong. Men, during that time, were animals. And I just remembered thinking that I was going to die that night. But by the grace of God, he tripped over a large rock. So I..." she exhaled, having a tear roll down her cheek, "I took that same exact rock...and I killed him before he could kill me. I crawled on top of him and bludgeon him to death until I cracked his skull like an egg."

Ada's heartbeat began to pick up,

"Was he one of them?"

"Someone in town knew him as a drunkard. I don't know if I believed that though. No one ever found out it was me."

"Mom," Ada's voice trembled in the darkness, "What are you saying?"

Dora took a couple of seconds to answer.

"...Just that I haven't always had this much faith."


	6. Episode 6 - Face the Music

What used to be the blossoming and festive borough of New York City, had wilted into a dangerous haven of carnage and chaos. The roads, just like everything else, lacked something integral—life. In the unwatched parts of the city, everything was a disaster. It was astonishing and eye-opening what a few days of disorder could bring out of people.

Buildings everywhere had been, or were in the process of being, broken into and looted. Therefore shards of glass decorated the sidewalks. Vehicles were overturned and lit aflame, causing clouds of thick black smoke to touch the sky.

Thinking back to what Ada said, she was absolutely right about how bad things had gotten in such a short amount of time. However, with it still being the beginning of the apocalypse, Carlos encountered plenty of other drivers. He drove past other vehicles driving towards the opposite direction, speeding to wherever there was safety. Something that ended up becoming a new unforeseen trend was honking whenever you drove past another car. Both boys figured that it was now a new form of interaction in this overturned world. Shortly afterward, they became the ones honking first. Jolyn would even reach over to press the horn before Carlos could. It sounded comforting, but in all reality, it was a killing thirst for social human interaction.

The reanimated roamed just about anywhere and everywhere, and that included the streets. Carlos couldn't deal with the number of times he and Jolyn were stalled because they either had to find a way around crowds of them. Just imagine seeing a wall of pitch black figures, around five feet tall and bobbing up and down along your eye level. And once the headlights were turned on, you saw multiple faces of those who formerly lived lives just like yours. From that point on, Carlos became a lot more dependent on his headlights, considering that parts of the town were still blacked out.

While cruising their way out of an unfamiliar block, Jolyn spotted a couple running on the sidewalk. They were tourists, carrying about their sleeping bags and backpacks. The man was limping and his partner did whatever she could to give him support,

"Slow down," Jolyn requested.

"Why?" Carlos replied absentmindedly, doing as he was told.

"PLEASE! PLEASE!" The limping man began to cry.

Carlos had seen the strangers but naturally ignored them, making the error that Jolyn would do that same. Assuming that Carlos was going to make a full stop, Jolyn unlocked the car door and prepared to climb out. The injured stranger staggered into the street as quickly as he could, leaving his companion on the sidewalk. Quite impressively, he caught up to Carlos' car while it was slightly still in motion. He mostly hopping on one foot. However, once he pulled on the outdoor handle, causing the car door to slightly opened, Carlos showed his wariness.

"JOLYN!" Carlos roared, stepping back on the gas.

He masterfully swerved his car and drove out of reach, causing the injured man to be pulled with the handle. He slipped, fell, and rolled on the pavement.

"Carlos!" Jolyn yelled, successfully closing the car door. He looked into the side mirror, seeing the hurt man's companion run into the street to assist him, "Carlos, what the hell, man? We could've helped them!"

"Listen to me! You keep the door locked at all times! You understand?!" Carlos demanded, briefly taking his eyes off the road from time to time. He prompted his vehicle to relock all of the doors.

"But we could've helped them!"

"Wake the hell up, man! How do you think these streets became like this?" He argued. Jolyn didn't answer. Instead, he slouched into his seat and looked out of his window. An awkward silence grew among them, but Carlos took this advantage to get more of the message across, "Look, it's just that we've got to look out for each other, alright? Your mom's direct orders were to go straight to your uncle's house and come back. If anything happened to you, your mom would kill me. And then Ada would probably kill me a second time after I turned into one of those...things," he said, attempting to lighten the mood.

"Don't joke like that…" Jolyn grimaced sourly.

"Look, you just have to be smart in times like this. People aren't the same anymore. Understand?"

"Yeah…" Jolyn nodded.

Emberly's father didn't live too far from the Chadwells. Overall it was around a fifteen-minute drive, which was why Dora agreed to it the first place. Had it been further, she would've been fully against it. Due to lamentable roadblocks and reanimated, it took them about a half-an-hour to reach the correct street. Serving his purpose, Jolyn directed which blocks to turn into. Once he pointed out the correct house, Carlos pulled up in front of an empty driveway surrounded by a black gate similar to Dora's home. Just above the driveway was a massive green awning for the purpose of protecting whatever parked vehicle was in the yard.

"Alright, so which house is it?" Carlos questioned, looking through the passenger's side.

"That one, but he's a tenant in the basement."

"Can you tell if he's home?"

Jolyn carefully rolled down the car window and peered at the house, trying to get a successful look at the basement windows on the lower parts of the landlord's home. Unfortunately, they were guarded by tall bushes and freshly gardened flowers, making it impossible to see if the basement lights were on. From the looks of the landlord's house and the neighboring homes, it seemed like no one was no longer in the neighborhood. The only available body was a mysterious one, loitering in a front yard directly beside the landlord's backyard. The only thing separating them was a small white garage. As a precaution, Carlos rolled his windows backup without question.

"Can't tell…"

As unprepared as he felt, Carlos just couldn't wait to get over it. He removed his keys from the ignition and courageously suggested that they both take a closer look. Putting on their surgical masks, they exited the vehicle. Reaching the entrance to the yard, the same reanimated happened to detect them and began to walk towards them. Jolyn and Carlos stopped simultaneously, pausing their actions and goggling at the corpse with engrossment. Seeing that it was enclosed on its property, it brainlessly walked until it was hindered by its own fence. It extended out both of its arms, lifelessly clawing at the air.

As soon as Jolyn opened the fence and stepped into the yard, the backyards motion-sensor light came on, beaming an intense glare of light into both of their eyes.

Staying on his toes, Carlos froze and looked around, cautious that it would grab any more unneeded attention. Jolyn entered the yard and briskly searched the side of the house, looking into the basement's bedroom, seeing it in total darkness. He whipped out his flashlight and pressed it against the barred window, seeing nothing but their usual furniture and belongings.

"See anything?!" Carlos whispered sharply.

Jolyn put up a hand that indicated a need for patience. Reaching into his pocket, Jolyn pulled out his cellphone and quickly selected his uncle's contact information. The phone rang and rang until it went straight to voicemail. Calling it one last time, there was no indication that Uncle Michael was home. Jolyn looked down and clenched the field of freshly cut grass that he was kneeling on. Walking back, he met Carlos waiting by the fence opening, examining the corpse that would've loved to get its undead hands on them.

"They aren't smart," Jolyn concluded, "They can't open fences, climb, none of that…"

"Yeah…" Carlos muttered. Having enough terrors for once, he looked at Jolyn, "Found anything?"

"He's not there…" Jolyn groaned.

"Maybe he's just in there with the lights off."

"I don't know, Carlos. He's legally blind, he needs light."

It was difficult to remain optimistic, but Carlos felt that although it was a disappointment, it didn't necessarily mean that something unspeakable became of Emberly's father. The sulking that was beginning to occur between the both of them required silence, and as they stopped speaking they heard vague sounds of music nearby. Jolyn looked around,

"Shit!" Jolyn alerted, seeing a shiny black car pull up to one of the intersections of their street.

They both dashed to the front of Carlos' vehicle, hoping that they had not been seen. Unfortunately, the sounds didn't die down. Instead, the car traveled closer and they heard the encompassed beat of loud hip-hop music become liberated from the confinement of its closed doors. They heard the opening of three doors,

"We seen you," one of the men said, "You might as well come out."

"S'alright, we ain't gonna hurt you. Just don't try anything funny," another voice said.

Although Carlos held him back, Jolyn obliged, not knowing who they were up against. Being closest to the road, he was the first to walk out into the open.

"You too. Come on out," another voice said, referring to Carlos, "I'm not gonna ask you again."

Carlos carefully raised his head and peeked over the hood of his car while attempting to stand and got a good look at who he was encountering. There was three of them. Carlos walked into the streets and stood beside Jolyn, careful to not make it obvious that he was sizing up. Whether it had to be said or not, he didn't get a good vibe from these men.

There was one front and center who looked like he were probably in his mid 40's and looked like that typical gangbanger who picked on you all through elementary school and never grew out of his abusive phase. He had on a white t-shirt and some straight dark jeans. There were two men over his right shoulder, who were clearly his henchmen. One was a long-haired man who looked like they regularly did recreational drugs and could've easily been confused for a hipster in a gentrified neighborhood. He wore plaid and a denim. The other looked around Jolyn and Carlos' age group and notably wore a tied bandana around the lower half of his mouth. He wore a denim all around—a sleeveless jacket and pants. Rarely, they all varied in ethnicity. But that's what happened during times like this: The unlikely joined forces.

The car, presumably owned by Moby, was a fancy recent model and had red neon lights along the underbody of it. The headlights, however, were off, making the neon the only kind of light emitted from the car.

"Y'all from around here?" The six-foot ringleader asked.

"No," Jolyn answered quietly, "We don't live too far from here. We just came here to check up on someone...we were just leaving."

The man began chuckling, revealing a row of golded grills on the bottom of his teeth. He looked back at his minions, who also laughed with him, but not as wholeheartedly.

"No, you're not,"

"Look, we don't want any trouble…" Carlos said, taking a couple steps forward.

But taking two steps was enough to set things in the wrong direction. Diligently, the man reached behind his back and pulled out a handgun from the waistband of his pants. Carlos froze and slightly raised his palms in the air. Jolyn watched him with disturbance as he slowly backed away to his position,

"Y'all have any money on you?"

"I do! I do," Carlos quavered frantically.

He carefully removed his wallet from his pocket and showed it to them before tossing it at their feet,

"Want me to check it Moby?" One of the henchmen asked.

After Moby approved, the one with the bandana walked into the street and flipped through the wallet. He confirmed that there were only fifty bucks and two credit cards along with his state license. Even though fifty bucks could easily be drained from you in a world prior the apocalypse, it made Carlos wonder what usage they had for it now.

"I don't know man. That's not really enough…" the long-haired one said, showing spaced-out and eroded teeth, "How about that ride?"

"No, no, I need tha—"

"Shut the hell up," Moby spat through his gritted teeth. He rushed up on Carlos and pressed his gun against the side of Carlos' head.

Carlos' lips quivered, shaking with fear.

"Okay! Please! No! No!" Jolyn interrupted, reaching out his arms in hopes of preventing bloodshed, "We have more money in the car. It's in the glove compartment. J-just check the glove compartment. I also have water, flashlights and a couple of bucks in my wallet. It's all in my backpack. You can have them."

Moby had his captives walk a couple of feet away from Carlos' vehicle, ultimately having them stray to the far front of it and kneel in the middle of the street like a pair of prisoners. With there only being five functioning street lights in the entire block, they were taken out of the street light's range. Even though the troubling darkness took some time for their eyes to get used to, their main issue was the undead that dwelled in it.

Moby spoke to his long-haired partner, referring to him as _Kev_ ; telling him to search Jolyn's belongings. Jolyn's body jerked back and forth as his backpack was violently opened and searched,

"It's like he said. He must be telling the truth about the money in the car," Kev shouted across the street.

"Kev, shut up, man! Ya too damn loud. You want the creepers to pop up on us again like last time?" Moby expressed, idiotically sounding somewhat louder than Kev was.

Moby walked in front of Jolyn and Carlos and kept his gun pointed at them while Kev and bandana head nabbed Jolyn's book bag from his shoulders and threw it into the backseat of their black car. With the final crook being referred to as _Rico_ , he was ordered to check the Carlos' glove compartment with the assistance of his druggie friend.

Carlos put his head down, staring directly at his palms on the road,

"Jolyn…" he whispered.

Jolyn looked at him from the corner of his eye,

"No talking," Moby demanded before lifting his head back up.

Once Jolyn and Carlos got the scarce opportunity to look at one another, Carlos mouthed the words, _gun. Gun in glove compartment_.

Jolyn shook his head, almost unsurprised by their misfortunate. If it weren't obvious, Jolyn didn't know Carlos had a gun in his car, much less that he owned one. For anyone in a situation like this, the plan was to nonverbally work together and somehow find a way out of this predicament.

Moby, who was still standing over the boys was eventually enlightened that glove compartment was locked and needed a key. Frustrated at his comrades waste of time, he switched places with Rico by handing him the gun and taking initiative. As Moby searched Carlos' pockets for the car keys, Rico notified that there were creepers approaching from both ends of the block. With one specific creeper in the lead and miles out from the others, Rico became the living definition of nonplussed,

"Uh, Moby?" he called multiple times, "Mick!" he finally said, gaining Moby's attention.

"What?!" Moby answered aggressively."

"There's a creeper!"

"Then shoot it, man!"

Rico fired two flawed shots at the reanimated's torso, only to be insulted and reminded by his peers of its weak spot. For a promising headshot, Rico waited until the reanimated dangerously stepped closer and successfully blasted it in the head.

Rico reacted no differently than anyone else probably would. He stared at the corpse like an awestruck child as it laid in front of him.

By that time, Moby had already located the keys and was ready to search the minivan. Declined time to recover, Moby reminded Rico to pay attention to their hostages.

Left alone with the clearly flustered teen, Jolyn took advantage of that,

"Your first time killing one of those?" Jolyn wondered, only to be answered with silence, "It's okay. I haven't killed one yet. I don't want t—"

"Shut up…" Rico spat under his breath.

Carlos looked up at him and realized that instead of keeping his eyes on them, his attention was more so focused on the groups of reanimated drawn by Moby's music.

"They're coming closer!" Rico jumped, pacing back and forth.

"What?" Moby answered from the car, finally finding the correct key out of six.

Just as Rico looked over his shoulder to shout, Carlos reached up and grabbed Rico's forearm. He drew him inward and elbowed him in the face so hard that his bandana slightly turned out of place. Jolyn kneeled on one knee and tackled Rico from the side, causing him to drop the handgun. Meanwhile, Carlos sprinted to his minivan, catching Kev by surprise,

"OH, SHIT! SHIT! MO—!

For someone who was left-handed, Carlos gave Kev a brutal right hook, having his head snap to the side and causing him to fall to the pavement unconscious. Moby, who was in the driver's seat, had finally opened the glove compartment and reached forward to grab the pistol, but just before he could possess a second gun, Carlos grabbed him by the belt and hauled him out like luggage. Mody groaned, having his back painfully hit the ground. Being big just made it worse.

Jolyn's build didn't allow him to be much of a fighter. He was easily shoved by anyone remotely bigger than him. Rico had given a significant amount of blows to Caleb's face, already giving him a bloody lip and slightly bruised cheek. Seeing that Jolyn might've been worn out, he was foolish to turn his back on him. Rico ran for the gun, but being the speedster that he was, Jolyn's long legs transported him to Rico's spot with just a couple of leaps. He stomped on Rico's hand, causing Rico to roar in pain. Jolyn kicked the pistol, losing it under another parked car in the neighborhood. They both ran to it, having Jolyn easily be shoved aside by Rico's far more athletic build. Before Rico could crouch to the ground, Jolyn caught up with him yet again and delivered an unskilled punch with his bony knuckles. Rico grabbed Jolyn by the shirt and threw him against the car, painfully pinning his back against the hood and giving a succession of boxer-like punches. Jolyn yelled and grunted in pain, feeling hard pops strike his face and brutally toss him side to side. However, at that moment he realized that if he couldn't use his own raw strength, he could use the strength around him.

Finding it nearly impossible to overpower Rico's strength, Jolyn slid down the hood of the car and crouched as he was repeatedly struck in the head over and over again. Quickly, Jolyn looked up, withstanding blows to the face so he could grab Rico by his shirt. He placed one hand on his shoulder and the other on his chest. Jolyn clenched the fabric and powerfully yanked him downward, causing Rico's face to slam into the car's hood. The blunt force caused Rico's torso to repel from the hood and flop on the nearest sidewalk like a fish thrown on land.

After wiping his nose with the back of his palm, he looked at his palm and verified that his nose was bleeding. Momentarily distracted by the sight of his blood, he suddenly remembered Carlos. Jolyn looked over and was impressed to see him holding his own against a guy who stood over six feet. Unable to reach the gun kicked under the vehicle, Jolyn darted across the street and leaped into Carlos' opened car. Spotting the pistol in the glove compartment, he reached for it but felt a sudden tug on his foot. Turning, he saw Kev, who had quickly regained consciousness. Jolyn clung to the driver's seat. While attempting to resist, Jolyn looked through the back window from where he was and could see Carlos being choke slammed onto the pavement.

Carlos gave a fierce groan, wincing in pain,

"AGH, CRAP!" He yelled, fighting Moby as he climbed on top of him. He began to straddle him, "JOLYN! OPEN THE TRUNK! OPEN IT, JOL—" He shouted all he could before his throat was suppressed by Moby's thick hands.

Kev was becoming more and more successful to the point where both of Jolyn's feet were back on the pavement. However, just as Carlos requested, Jolyn's eyes searched around for the trunk release switch—but only as a last resort. Being an older model, the minivan's switch resembled a small lever. It was just underneath the driver's seat on the left side. Pulling it, the mini van's trunk slowly lifted. Jolyn unwisely lowered his guard, having Kev pull him out and toss him to the ground.

However, as Carlos was gasping for air, he extended his arm into the trunk and searched like his life depended on it—because it did. Feeling the exact item he wanted, Carlos used his strength to pull out a sledgehammer, gripping the hammer closely by the head with one fist. Using just that one arm, he slammed the ridge of the hammer's head into Moby's jaw.

Once Moby felt the impact, he threw himself off Carlos like he was touched by fire.

Carlos held the sledgehammer like a walking stick and used it to help him stand. Quickly standing, he held it with both hands, raised the hammer over his head, and pounded it on one of Moby's ankle. The bones in his leg's shifted, hearing and seeing the crack that ultimately caused his foot to go limp and become lopsided. For the first time, Moby let out a squeal, essentially crying in misery.

Carlos prepared himself for another strike by lifting the hammer and planned to give a fatal blow. However, he couldn't bring himself to do it. As much as the scum deserved it, he found it nearly impossible to end someone's life. And for the first time, he encountered what other survivors felt.

"Drop it," Carlos heard from behind.

Carlos, sweating and trembling from the massive effort, looked over his shoulder and saw Kev with the handgun from the glove compartment. Kev repeated himself, but louder. Carlos did exactly as he was told, resting the sledgehammer on the pavement beside the tire of his car. At this point, Kev had the upper hand and ordered Carlos to step away from Moby. And even though Carlos did as he said, Kev still planned on killing them. After all they caused, there was no way he could let them run free. He didn't have time to check whether the gun was loaded, but he was about to find out. Just by the revealing fear on Carlos' face, the clip was indeed full.

Seconds away from pulling the trigger, Jolyn tackled into Kev. The gun went off, having the bullet fly in whichever direction.

Jolyn continuously shouted and shoved, maneuvering Kev into the rattling fence of the idle reanimated in its yard. Not being nearly as built as Rico, Kev was easier to subdue. Alongside all of his verbal profanities, came a hard chomp on his left ear. Kev looked up, seeing two built arms wrap themselves around his neck and refuse to let go. Jolyn quickly backed away, having his face missed by inches, and tumbled to the ground as he tripped off the curb in exhaustion.

Kev screamed as he felt his ear being ripped from his head along with the flesh on the side of his face.

Like a miniature blood-filled balloon had ruptured, the left side of his face and neck were suddenly splattered with dense amounts of blood. As the side of his face was endlessly being ingested, Kev raised the gun and pointed it at the reanimated's dome. Pulling the trigger, Kev haphazardly shot himself in the head as well, instantly putting down the both of them.

The bodies slid down the fence, having it sever their link.

Carlos, dumbfounded by it all, stared and realized he was looking at a grotesque scene beyond his comprehension. He held his queasy stomach and backed away. He weakly fell to his knees and began puking ravenously from the sight of Kev's scattered brains on the sidewalk. Unsure whether he was finished spewing his lunch, he remained still just in case. However, he heard Jolyn groaning a couple of feet in front of his truck.

Carlos wiped his mouth and recovered in a timely manner. Carlos carefully stumbled behind Jolyn and attempted to help him stand by sitting him up.

"AGH!" Jolyn screamed.

"Wha…" Carlos paused, taking a double take at his own palm as he removed it from Jolyn's side; It was covered in blood. From the looks of it, Jolyn had been shot by the bullet, "Jolyn…?"

"Don't worry," Jolyn groaned weakly, "Quick! They're coming!"

Jolyn pointed towards the three-way junction where they were previously apprehended and brought Carlos' attention to the group of reanimated coming from both directions and eventually merging into one group. As painful as it was, Carlos had no choice but to drag Jolyn from behind and aid him into the passenger's seat. Ignoring the pleads of Moby, he ran around the back of his truck, closing the trunk and making sure to grab his sledgehammer on the way there. Before a reanimated could take hold of him, he jumped into the driver's seat and slammed the door shut, staring back at the face of a shaggy-haired woman. He looked over at Jolyn, who was wailing in unpleasant pain.

Carlos was panicking, unsure what to do. Temporarily removing his borrowed sweatshirt, he tore off the tank top he had underneath and indecisively reached over to apply it to the wound.

Jolyn winced, sharply sucking in air through his gritted teeth and shaking his foot about,

"Aghhh!"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" Carlos apologized, "Just apply pressure to it," he suggested thoughtfully. As Jolyn did what he said, Carlos nodded with encouragement, "That's right...that's right...you're gonna be okay."

"Shit!" Jolyn, cursed misty-eyed, "Am I gonna die?"

Distressed, Carlos flipped open the visor, having junk mail and a spare car key fall and land between feet. Searching through the mail, he quickly found the key underneath his foot and popped it into the ignition while gazing through the rearview mirror, he saw the reanimated crawling after Moby, who was screaming and hopping around the back his car.

That's the last Carlos ever saw before speeding out of the block.

* * *

Ada woke up to the sounds of more gunshots and helicopters coming from outside of the zone. It was almost like Independence Day with the amount of pops she would hear in a day. Turning her head over, she looked at the cable box above her television. The time read four in the morning. She hopped out of bed, exited her bedroom and checked in Jolyn's room, which was right beside hers. Flipping on the light switch, she saw that his bed was still empty.

"Shit," she said in silence.

She had checked downstairs next, hoping to see both boys on the living room couch, but they were nowhere to be found. Growing extremely anxious, she returned to her room and took a look at her cell phone. There were no messages from either of them, so she sent a couple out instead. She was afraid that this exact thing would happen. God knows what happened to Jolyn and Carlos while they were out there.

Ada remained awake until sunup, constantly checking her cell phone and going into the backyard to see if they would ever reappear. By this point, she was back in her room in complete dread over to the prolonged absence of her brother and boyfriend.

Everyone, including Ada, had forgotten that the military was allowing pet rescue to drive by and take people's pets around six that morning. Although Ada didn't want to give up her little companions, she knew it was the best option for them. All it took was a knock on the door and the greeting of some hipster looking folks to remind her that today was the day. Ada took it upon herself to round up all of the pets in the house. She would smother the Lynx and Oreo in smooches before locking them up in their cages and carrying them to the back of the truck.

Lastly, she had to leash Marigold and guide her into the truck, or else she would've thought she was going for a neighborhood stroll. Marigold was usually scared of visiting the doctor and didn't like driving in cars. So when she saw the cage, her entire demeanor changed. Her pointed ears fell back and she became quiet. Ada kissed her and hugged her, giving her multiple kisses on the side of her snout. As a precaution, Ada volunteered to put a muzzle around her mouth and helped locked her in her cage. Marigold gave high-pitched whines as Ada walked off. Wiping her eyes. she climbed out of the back of the truck, thus allowing the truck's driver to close the roll-up door,

"Anything you wanna let me know about them before we hit the road?" The friendly woman asked.

"Oreo gets really violent when he's caged up. He bit my mom once. Lynx," Ada smiled and looked at the woman, "He's really friendly and has really sharp claws. And Marigold, We've had her since I was six, so she's pretty old," Ada looked away as her smile vanished. Her bottom lip drooped and she began to shudder from small cries.

"Hey, I know this is painful," one of the pet care workers said, rubbing Ada on the back, "But we'll keep them safe. You can trust us. Animals are natural hunters. They're quick and a lot smarter than humans. They'll be fine."

All Ada could do was nod in silence. The worker hopped into the passenger's seat as the trucked started up. In seconds, the truck swerved right out of her block. She scoffed, standing right in the middle of the road, still unable to believe that this was all happening at once.

* * *

Emberly couldn't sleep alone at night anymore, so Dora shared the bed with her. When she woke up, Dora woke up, and that time was now around eight in the morning. Far more concerned about Jolyn, like always, Dora checked his bedroom first before walking into Ada's next,

"Oh, you're awake?" Dora asked in surprise. Ada nodded at her, "Did you hear from Jolyn?"

"No," Ada said with an attitude, "Not a text. Call. Nothing."

"Carlos?"

Ada shook her head. She had the urge to tell her mother that this was her fault but held her tongue with tremendous effort. Her mother would eventually tell herself that. What Dora did was no different from Ada's reaction. She searched the house and ultimately ended up with her cell, using whatever remaining battery life she had left to get in touch with her son. As expected, that didn't work.

Dora was committed to going on about the rest of her day as if nothing happened, all to avoid the surfacing of suspicions from anyone whether it was soldiers, neighbors or Emberly. She couldn't have her niece feeling guilt that her cousin and her new friend hadn't been heard from the whole day.

She made breakfast consisting of french toast and runny eggs. Aside from the rations, it was what she had left. Once Emberly left the room, whether to use the bathroom, to cry, or to use the bathroom _and_ cry, it gave Ada and Dora some time to talk about it.

Suddenly, they heard a knock on their door early in that morning. Ada was the first to run to the door with Dora briskly following. As she opened the door, it was Arne. What a surprise.

"Hi, Ada, is your mother home?"

Ada turned her head into the living room, seeing Dora shake her head as a sign to turn Arne away. She turned back and faced the screen of the door, she took a sigh before speaking,

"She's really busy right now actually," Ada answered believably, "Come back later?"

Not even waiting for a response, she prepared to close the door. But Arne had something else to say,

"It's important," he spat.

Ada looked back and placed one hand on her hip,

"How important…?" Ada tested.

The look of annoyance and exhaustion on Arne's face was priceless. At least to Ada. She resumed closing the door before Arne said something that made her reconsider,

"Is Jolyn home?" He asked purposely. Once Arne realized the look of suspense on her face, he continued, "Or Carlos? Do you know where they are?" Arne asked, staring at her for a long time with raised eyebrows.

"Do you…?"

Arne looked at the scattered soldiers around the block. He nodded subtly to a point where only Ada noticed it and looked back at her. Dora, who was still waiting behind Ada walked into the open and allowed him to enter the house, closing the door behind them.

Arne passed on information to Dora and Ada about the people they had been worried about all morning. From what Arne had been told, Jolyn had been shot and Carlos had put in a lot of effort to assist Jolyn to the community gates. Knowing that he would be apprehended, he also knew that Jolyn would get the medical attention he needed. Meanwhile, Jolyn was transported to the medical station, Carlos was detained in a detention facility. Dora was at a loss for words. First and foremost, she just wanted to know her son's condition.

Arne confessed to her that this was a serious crime in the eyes of the government, and the fact that Jolyn's wellbeing hadn't been determined yet, it meant a long time of recovery before he was returned home,

"How long is he going to be there for?" Dora asked.

"I don't know," Arne stuttered, "This might be hard to hear, but we don't know if he'll even live…"

"Oh, my God..." Dora moaned.

"Look, I got a chance to look at him because I told them I knew his mother. T-the bullet hit his side and there's an exit wound. No vital organs were hit, but.." Dora's face was already beginning to gray, "He lost a lot of blood on the way here."

Ada sat with her folded hands trembling between her thighs and looked directly into her lap until she couldn't hear anymore. She exited the living room and walked into the backyard—a place that unintentionally became more meaningful as each day passed. Dora watched her daughter's every step. She sniffled, feeling heartbroken by the devastating news as well,

"You can talk to her...I'll wait here," Arne said.

Dora did exactly as suggested and followed Ada into the backyard. Before pushing opened the screen door, she saw Ada leaning on the porch's railing, crying harder than she had ever seen Ada cry before. As painful as it was to watch Ada experience this trial of emotions, Dora exited the house and stepped onto the porch.

Hearing the door behind her, Ada quickly pulled herself together, not wanting to be seen at her weakest,

"Adaline…" Dora started.

"Why'd you tell them to go?" Ada's voice cracked, momentarily turning her head to the side.

Dora began to open her mouth but closed it a couple of times, thinking for the right answer. She knew she had one, but she just didn't know how to express it,

"I was scared. I was scared for Michael," she said softly, "After what happened to Joy, I just...I just couldn't feel that pain again. I couldn't!" Dora paused, "Aren't you worried about your uncle?"

"Of course!" Ada complained defensively, standing erect and looking at Dora. She then relaxed a bit, "But weren't you scared of knowing the answer?" She watched Dora as she thought about it, "I didn't want to know if he turned into what Aunt Joy did. Now Carlos and Jolyn are gone.

Dora understood and nodded.

"Sorry," she said.

Ada looked at her mom, taken aback by the two syllables that just came out of her mouth. It was so rarely used that Ada could be picky and say that it was used improperly—only because it wouldn't save Jolyn and get Carlos. But after taking a moment to process it, she thought that it was best to accept it now before it was retracted and never heard of again. It was a work in process if they wanted their relationship to work in this new world.

"Okay…" Ada accepted.

Dora wiped away one last tear before entering her home and seeing Arne enchanted on her two-seater. She peeped at his hand and noticed a small photograph. Once she turned to the sofa, sitting directly at an angle from him, he looked up at her almost as if he was surprised,

"Oh, hey," Arne said. Just as he prepared to put his photo away, Dora took an interest,

"Do you mind?" Dora asked, holding out her hand.

With a smile, Arne passed the photograph to Dora. Reaching for her glasses on her coffee table, she unfolded it and wore it on her face. Once she laid her eyes on the photo, she loudly chuckled, seeing a photo of an adorable young boy in a green graduation gown and cap, grimacing at the camera.

"He's so cute," she said, chuckling even harder.

"Isn't he?" Arne smiled, "That's my boy. I remember his mother and I told him to smile because he always made that face in family photos,"

He and Dora shared an amusing moment, laughing up her living room. He flushed as he proudly looking away. Dora glanced up at him, seeing the yearn and desire to see his boy. She returned the photo to him,

"What's his name?" Dora wondered.

"Hunter."

"When's the last you heard from him and his mother?"

Arne's smile remained, but lost its spirit,

"Two days before this all happened."

"Oh…" Dora sighed, "Well, I hope you're reunited with him one day," she wished. Arne laughed, mostly at the possibility of that ever happening. On that note, Arne figured that he had spent enough time at the Chadwell's house and went about his business. It may have seemed like Dora took the admission and imprisonment of Jolyn and Carlos lightly, but she was just getting started. Hunter's photograph was a small cog in an even bigger machine.

* * *

Despite everything that had gone on, the remaining women in the house all tried to enjoy one another's company. They rounded up in the living room, playing a game of bingo. It couldn't be stressed enough how wise Emberly was for her age. When she realized that Jolyn and Carlos hadn't returned home yet, she just pieced together the facts that they hadn't found her father. She cried from morning till noon and essentially grieved the rest of the day. So Ada and Dora did whatever they could to take her mind off it.

One of the best things about working with children was that Ada learned to understand them a lot better. Children were very emotional beings and the best thing for them was to experience the tides, but it was never good to let them dwell on it. So after some effort and dedication, Ada had finally gotten Emberly to crack a smile with one of her corny jokes and undying show of affection.

Suddenly, in the middle of their game, they heard screeching tires and a loud, thunderous crash that last for a couple of seconds. Ada and Dora were the first to look out of the house's windows.

Emberly stood behind them, nervously fidgeting with her fingers,

"What was that?" She asked with a naturally soft and raspy voice.

The distant alarms of multiple parked cars went off and there was a nonstop explosion of deafening, bass-dropping music.

Ada opened the front door of the house, seeing the exact same reaction from multiple neighbors.

Her closest neighbors; a husband and wife, held their child while watching multiple military soldiers run to the scene by foot and car. Taking a chance, Ada ran down her porch and exited her yard, ignoring the calls from her mother. One house away from the intersection, Ada walked into the streets and, sooner or later, was surrounded by multiple other eyewitnesses from all of the houses. People chattered uncontrollably as a horde of reanimated made their way through the opening of the demolished fence that was installed to protect the community.

Nearby, overturned in the front yard of a boarded-up home, was a sleek, black vehicle with changing neon lights along the bottom.

Ada was struck with terror, never having seen so many reanimated in her life. There were hundreds of them. They were clearly rounded up, but by who?

Random bystanders shrieked loudly, watching the corpses disperse into other blocks yards ahead. But being directly in front of their path, a majority of them headed towards the crowd. As if the sight of them weren't enough to make Ada flee, the military soldiers attempted to fight them off by firing their semi-automatic weapons. With tears streaming down her face, Ada pushed through people and ran back to her home screaming and telling neighbors to get back into their houses. As she entered her block, she noticed reanimated limping and wobbling down her street. She saw neighbors being chased down and attacked, having the reanimated fall on top of them and viciously attack them. Still recuperating from her sprain, Dora walked into the street to physically bring her teenage daughter inside of the house. But just as everyone else, she too, was exposed to what was occurring.

A neighbor, who happened to be a much older woman was unintentionally pushed to the pavement, by a huskier teenager who was simply trying to escape. As a result of her hard fall, she was injured. She cried for someone to help her, extending out her arm to anyone who ran past her and ignored her. Ada instinctively ran to the older woman's aid, bumping into people on the way there.

"Ada!" Dora screamed, seeing her much capable daughter be the unwanted hero.

Dora watched multiple neighbors be circled and chased out of their houses, unintentionally redirecting the reanimated to threaten others who weren't initially their target. People, who responded later to the commotion, had mistakenly opened their doors to recently infected people, being bombarded by reanimated.

Suddenly, Dora heard a familiar shriek and searched around. Being in the midst of the mayhem, it only confused her more,

"Ada…?" She faintly said to herself.

Looking where Ada previously was. She saw her daughter who was in one piece and successfully helping the elderly woman back into her secure yard.

Hearing the same scream one last time, she turned and looked directly at her opened property, seeing Emberly hoarsely yell and cry. Hysterically trying to shut the door on the arm of a reanimated man.

Dora jumped into action, ignoring her limp and trying to move as quickly as she could. She made it back onto her properly and searched around for something useful. She tried dislodging a loose brick from the first set of steps, but it barely budged. Running up her porch as the reanimated continued wrestling with Emberly, she noticed her gardening tools in one of her flower pots: A green bag. As she searched through it, she glanced up one last time.

The husband of the neighboring family reached through the spaces of the fences that separated their property, only to be of help to Emberly. He successfully grabbed the back of the creature's shirt, tugging it back from the entrance. But like an easily distracted predator, the corpse turned his attention to the husband and instantly bit into his forearm, having him scream in excessive pain as his flesh was skinned from his muscle. While screaming, Emberly pushed open the security door, slamming it into the side of the reanimated and throwing it down the stairs.

Finding a pair of handheld shears, Dora quickly went on one knee and held down the deadly reanimated by the throat. She lifted her other arm, prepping to give it it's fatal, yet repulsive, blow. As her hands wavered up and down from indecisiveness, she aimed straight for the temple. As the reanimated became motionless, Dora slowly backed away, leaving the shears in place.

Suddenly Ada reappeared, outrunning a couple of corpses. As she prepared to walk up the stairs, she screamed, frightened at the sight of the dead reanimated on the porch,

"Quick! It's dead," Dora rushed.

Ada felt her arm being grabbed by the reanimated she sought to escape from and swiftly slipped out of its grip, having it trip to the ground. She ran into the yard and locked the fence, immediately jumping back as the second reanimated tried reaching for her hair.

Backing away, she shrieked again as her foot tapped the body of the dead undead. Even though Ada had reassured her mother multiple times that she was fine, Dora quickly grabbed her daughter and examined every inch of her body. She had on pajama pants and a spaghetti top—it was too much flesh. However, after a thorough examination, Dora could tell she was fine.

"Emberly are you okay?" Ada asked, looking over her shoulder.

Emberly nodded, eyes still wet with tears. She watched the herd of reanimated casually make their way through their block, having some stay behind and feast on their victims.

A few of them exited the block only to rejoin the reanimated visibly making their way through the four-way intersection that crossed into their block.

Ada turned to look at their neighbors, seeing the wife of the family tend to her husband's recently injured arm,

"What happened, mom?" Ada asked, looking at the both of them, "Is he…?"

Dora gave a look that basically confirmed it.

As unfortunate as it was, a vehicle belonging to the army suddenly pulled up into their block, firing gunshots and clearing out the reanimated gathered in front of Dora's house. Arne jumped out of the car along with James and Torres, firing their semi-automatics at the original and newly turned reanimated,

"What the hell happened?!" Arne asked.

"I don't know!" Ada answered first, "Someone brought all of those things here and drove their car into the gates!"

"Dora, get your car and get out of here!" Arne demanded.

"And go where?!" Dora shouted just before he could leave, "I'm not leaving without my son, Arne!" Arne cursed at himself, completely forgetting that Jolyn and Carlos came with the package. After Arne shot a couple more reanimated, Dora continued to speak to him over the distant gunfire, "Come with us!" Dora pled. Arne stared at her, amazed that she was so confident with her decision, "I'll be in your debt! Please, just help me get my son."

"And Carlos!" Ada interjected.

"And Carlos," Dora nodded, "God knows what's going on where they are right now."

Arne cautiously looked around, thankfully having his allies cover him and depart shortly afterward to join the battle with their fellow brothers and sisters,

"I can't just abandon my post, Dora."

"What would you do to see your son again, Arne?" Dora asked respectively.

"Anything."

"Exactly," Dora understood, "Me too."

It took a lot more convincing than just that, but needless to say, Arne ultimately decided to leave with the Chadwells. As far as he knew, the national guard was history. The horde had grown so powerful that Torres and James weren't heard from ever again. In fact, many soldiers weren't. The neighborhood wasn't what it use to be. People were either locked up in their houses or strewn along the streets. As painful as it was, Dora, Ada, and Emberly had to leave their life behind.

Thinking it was the best thing to do, Dora gave her car keys to the wife who lived next door, ultimately giving up her car as a way for paying respects and showing gratitude for what her husband risked to save Emberly's life.

Once they all climbed into the beige humvee, Arne took off. He took a path designated for all military vehicles during travel, but on his way there, he realized that he wasn't the only military soldier who happened to abandon their post.

* * *

Carlos was the first to retrieve since he had been closest to the neighborhood in prison recently created in a park. It was entirely formed with barbed wire to keep people isolated and quarantined in tents.

Just as anticipated, the prison had also been overrun by a couple of reanimated that probably were remnants of the horde that attacked the neighborhood. Essentially caged and left to die along with plenty others, Carlos was located by Arne and ultimately reunited with Ada. He apologized and pleaded for the families forgiveness for what happened to Jolyn. However, Dora knew when things were out of your hands. She couldn't solely blame him.

Arne was considerate enough to give Carlos the chance to pick up his minivan and tag along for the ride, because the more vehicles, the better.

Having already made his choice of wanting to leave New York with the family, Carlos wanted to make a stop at his home one last time. He and Arne bumped heads on whether or not it was a good idea, but after some added details about his infected mother, Arne became a little more sympathetic to his situation.

"We're going to Queens Hospital. We have to see if Jolyn is still alive," Dora enlightened.

"You have until forty minutes or we're leaving without you!" Arne added, strictly giving Carlos a time and place to be when once his plans were fulfilled.

Although the majority thought it was a terrible idea, Carlos rebelliously followed his gut, and Ada, being the supportive girlfriend that she was, made the decision to go with him.

Once, they got there, neither of them was surprised to see that the set of apartment buildings, including his own, had now been engulfed in flames. Large quantities of ash and debris fell from the building. As tragic as it seemed, Carlos felt bittersweet about the fact that his mother was no longer in a state of man-made damnation. He couldn't bring himself to end her, so this was life's way of taking the responsibility for him.

After cruising through the streets he had known all his life, Carlos picked up his speed and raced to the rendezvous.

Ada reached for her ringing phone that was sitting in the cupholder. Seeing that it was her mother, she answered it,

"Hello?!" She shouted over the roaring winds, "Mom!? Did you get Jolyn?" She paused, "Is he okay?!"

Carlos looked over at her,

"Is he okay?!" He shouted over the winds.

Covering her mouth, tears instantly ran down both cheeks. She gave a sharp inhale,

"Oh, my God…"

* * *

 **(A/N: A big thanks to all of those who followed/supported my fan fiction and I hope you enjoyed the characters and the story. A second season would be nice, but I just might stop here. Reviews or stats would definitely encourage me to make one. I will occasionally thread bump. Thanks again.)**

 **(Late update 11/30/18: Season two is already up.)**


	7. Update: Chapter 1 revamped

**( Update: 5/20/18 \- The entire chapter has been revamped | ****Update 12/16/19 \- Revamped Chapter 1 yet again.)**

 **(Tips: Read in dark font with any instrumental soundtrack you see fit.)**

* * *

The geography lesson might be a little boring, but trust that it will be integral to understand and anticipate what's at stake.

New York City: The overpriced and culturally rich city that harbored millions of people from various parts of the world. There was so much to NYC that made it what it was—public transportation, the city skyscrapers, the 24-hour drive-thrus, the undying cars that sped around past midnight, and the exposure to so many faces that walked the streets. Being a resident, there was so much to welcome and appreciate, just as much as there was to underrate and loathe: the infectious rats & unwarranted pigeons, late-night muggings, rowdy teenagers, and discourteous pedestrians that yelled at you for accidentally stepping on their shoes. But all in all, it's what enriched NYC into the big apple. Unlike plenty of other cities, NYC was broken up into five different boroughs: Manhattan, Brooklyn, Bronx, Staten Island, and Queens. Manhattan was where all the money was. It's where all of the top-paying jobs were located including some of the greatest colleges. It was also the golden gate for tourist attractions.

Brooklyn and The Bronx weren't exactly known for its great reputation like Manhattan was. The two were typically stereotyped for its violence and inevitable gentrification, but it still had a great cultural history to it and many natives did what they could to uplift their community's atmosphere for at-risk youth. Staten Island was pretty self-explanatory. It was the one borough that others felt was isolated from the four other districts. Some would even argue that it wasn't even considered a district at all. Ultimately, the wealthiest people usually live here. Queens was probably the keenest combination of the other four burrows into one. It was the largest borough of all, but everything about it was plenty mediocre. The houses were decent as well as the people. Queens was the primary source of NYC's diverse and rich culture. Even though people rathered sticking to their own ethnic groups, people from all over congregated in Queens. There were over one hundred spoken languages and it had the second-highest population. While that was the kind of representation for any resident in Queens to have sinful pride in, there was more to Queens than the many interesting people the dwelled within.

Deep within, on the furthest part of southern-east Queens, there was something small and arguably insignificant. Something that others would consider meaningless among the many notable things that surrounded it: A small family. A family that lived in a relatively nice, middle-class neighborhood often considered an "urban" community despite its average household income. However, today was going to be a day where things that normally measured people's importance was about to become meaningless because their lives and the lives of every other New Yorker was about to change forever.

People may agree to disagree on whether or not NYC's population was something to brag about—in a sense where anything minimal, positive or negative, had the potential to affect hundreds. So what if something really terrible happened—something astronomical? Could it be an asset or a liability? That's something we're about to find out.

* * *

Pandora Chadwell was an independent mother in her early fifties. Head of her household. She was a woman born and raised on a small island in the West Indies and moved to America in hopes of finding the rumored 'American dream' for herself and, at the time, planned family. She was biracial, being half Afro-Caribbean and half Native, having a father indigenous to the people of her home country. She had straight, shoulder-length, jet black hair, and warm ochre brown skin. She wasn't ethnically ambiguous, therefore she shared subtle features that still read as Black—or as politically correct others said—African American. More suitable for someone her age, she was small-boned, possessed an average frame with wide hips, thighs, and stood around five feet, four inches. Lastly, she had a noticeably mild accent, which her American children, all except one, never developed.

Life, in general, wasn't an easy journey for anyone. Both back home and in America, Dora had her run-ins with some pretty shitty men in her life, and the father of her last two children was the reason she decided to call it quits with searching for a reliable partner. As much as America preached it, there were discrepancies on how you were treated based on many things like skin color, gender, and creed, but there was nothing much a middle-aged immigrant mother could do. She often wondered what her life would look like if those things truly didn't matter. Up until that point, Dora decided that all she needed to rely on were her family, pets included, and her undying faith in God.

Even after a long day at work, her job as a mother was never put on pause. She was in the kitchen, standing over four hot pots of food. Today was one of those days where she felt like cooking a full course meal. She took pride in her cooking. She was one out of ten children and it was almost standard that women knew how to cook from a young age, especially during the time and place in which she grew up. However, coming to America, she realized that such models were something of the past and having children in this country meant having them build their own identity based on the life they experience.

Dora wasn't exactly thrilled with the outcome of her children because she felt she failed at instilling the uttermost important thing in her children and that was an everlasting acceptance and belief of God as their one and only father. For as long as she could remember, the bible was essentially a school textbook and everything had to be about him. Just as the bible taught, it was a parent's responsibility to teach children the same values and it was something she would never stop trying to accomplish.

Her oldest was in graduate school, currently studying for his Ph.D. in science. Science and God together? His mind was pretty much made up the second his major whispered itself into his ear. Her second-born decisively eloped with her high school sweetheart soon after graduation. She ended up joining the military, started a family of her own and had relocated so many times that Dora could barely list all of them. Finally, the last two were both high school seniors and were probably the most vocal and rebellious and still lived at home. They were respectful but were raised in the generation where they believed you had to challenge everything you thought was a double standard. So the 'teachings of the pastor' were definitely something they double-teamed Dora over.

With the way her children had turned out, it was all a part of the unanticipated journey of adolescence and adulthood and she was glad to say that the children of today had a bit more free will than she and others did as a child. Because of them, they also helped mold her into the more open-minded individual she was today. Overall, Dora was proud to say that they were all productive children in society and that she undeniably compared other children to her own, especially the children of her siblings—many of which were back in her home country.

Dora dabbed her forehead with a damp cloth and glanced over at the radiant green numbers of the digital clock built into the oven. It was past four o'clock in the evening and that was the time her last two usually came out of school. Her daughter did best academically and had a full ride to Berkley in hopes of majoring in psychology. She was a bit more disciplined, so her straight-A grades enabled her to finish classes earlier and give her enough time to get to work, which was only a good walking distance from school. But for some odd reason, Dora couldn't get in touch with her.

Giving her arm a break from tirelessly stirring her pots of baked beans, gravy, and other concoctions, she reached for her smartphone sitting on the kitchen counter. Browsing through her contacts, she selected her youngest son's name: Jolyn. Using her shoulder to hold the phone up to her ear, she concentrated on her cooking once again, removing her pork ribs from the oven. After multiple rings, Jolyn finally answered just before it could get to voicemail.

"Hello?" She was happy to hear his voice safe and free from distress on the other line,

"Jolyn?" Dora said charismatically. She always had a natural projection that he often found annoying, "Hi!" she practically squealed in his ear.

"Yeah, mom?" Jolyn answered, unaware that he had winced. The tone of his voice indicated that he was already eager to get off the phone with her, as all teenagers usually did unless you were their high school friends or crush, "What is it?"

She knew she had to make it quick or else she'd either forget what she called for or Jolyn would come up with an excuse to hang up earlier,

"Is Ada with you?" she finally got around to it. Removing her oven mitts, she tossed them onto the counter. This time, holding her phone up with her hand, "I've been texting her all afternoon and I've gotten not one response for her, nah?" Dora said.

'Nah' was an expression a lot of West Indians used. It wasn't used as the alternative answer for 'no' or to decline something; the West Indian version was like a verbal question mark and it was exclaimed at the end of a sentence when the user was especially desperate for a clear answer.

"Well, she texted _me_ after sixth period and said she was heading to work," Jolyn confirmed. Even though he was sure that his sister was fine, it still never hurt to be too sure. Jolyn was slightly more drawn into the conversation than he was just a second ago and thought long and hard for a reasonable explanation to prevent him and his mother from going on the verge of panic. When it finally clicked, he was sure of the reason, "I don't know, maybe it had something to do with your argument over her hair yesterday?" He responded sarcastically, "Mom, I gotta go."

"Jolyn—"

Dora listened in, hearing Jolyn burst into sudden laughter with a group of other teenage voices that existed within a vacuum. Dora could hear one of them swear like a sailor but shrugged it off, understanding that teenagers will be teenagers. After all, she unrealistically convinced herself that her son would never use such profanity even if he socialized with others who did. After he hung up, she tried calling her daughter one last time. The phone rang off the hook until it went straight to voicemail,

" _Hey! You've reached Ada. Just leave a message and I'll try to get back to you!_ "

"Ada. I called you six times already. Six! I need to know if you're okay. Call me back when you get the chance, okay? Please!"

She ended the call just before the voicemail could record the smoke alarm. She placed down her phone, grabbed her mitts and ran over to the stove to lower the fire. Seeing that she was finally finished cooking, she turned off the stove & oven and decided to walk into the living room and relax. She just couldn't figure out why she was cooking for two American brats who rarely showed their appreciation for a mother who had to work twice as hard to get where they were in life. Having a plate of food on the table was a luxury that even most New Yorkers—hell, Americans, didn't get to have.

* * *

Jolyn was the last child who took physical traits heavily after his father with some of his mother's look blended in here and there. Usually, a parent is harder on their daughters, but Dora could always tell Jolyn was a bit different the moment she laid eyes on him in the delivery. He was a very quiet and sensitive boy in his younger years and because of that, he was overprotected. He became a reserved and aloof child, and he only opened up to people he became really close with. Naturally, he was very open-minded and creative. He was tall, very thin and had a charming face that he was wildly unimpressed by. Rarely, did he ever feel confident. His skin was a mild sepia color, having a bit of a reddish undertone if you looked closely. Due to the ancestry on his mother's side and whatever was on his father's, Jolyn possessed features that either made him pass off as Indian, Black or an ambiguous mix of both. Depending on who was looking at him. He identified as Black and even if it was all he saw when he looked in the mirror, he acknowledged how he was perceived by others and how it affected the way he was treated as opposed to others. He possessed bright, deep dark brown eyes, a mini afro with many curls similar to that of a sheep's...so he's heard before. It wasn't the first comparison he'd accept but it was one of the most accurate ones he had ever heard of.

Every day after school Jolyn would spend some time with his beloved clique of friends. Even if they luckily shared the same lunch period, they just couldn't get enough of one another. They were people he knew and spoke to every now and then throughout high school but some greater force brought them closer together during their senior year of high school. There were about seven of them and Jolyn made the eighth. They were gathered at the park that was only a couple of minutes away from their high school.

While the rest of his friends were on the swing sets or on their phones, Jolyn spoke privately with one of his photogenic friends, Sanjeet. They both sat across from one another on green park benches. Like all the stone tables at the park, theirs was ingrained with a chessboard. However, they had no plans to pay attention to it,

"Yo, have you ever smoked weed before?" Sanjeet randomly sparked.

Jolyn looked at him appalled, which encouraged an immature snort from his friend. Jolyn to preach about how he would never do drugs and how he felt nearly superior because he never used a substance before. Sanjeet's smirk remained plastered on his face because as nice as it sounded, it was far from the truth. He reminded Jolyn of the time they all cut school that one day to drink alcohol in the park. Jolyn, who failed at containing his blushes, reverted to a grimace.

"Yeah," Jolyn shrugged, "But alcohol's different."

"Different?!" Sanjeet objected, "How so?"

"Because alcohol isn't a drug!" Jolyn responded, sounding so sure.

Jolyn usually had a serious case of thinking he knew all the answers when he actually didn't and what he was about to learn might have made him view himself differently and hopefully it wouldn't be too damaging to himself personally,

"Eh, technically it is…" Sanjeet turned and looked over at one of their friends, Deeva. She wasn't exactly a nerd or anything but she was just one of those individuals who knew random facts about certain things, "Isn't it?"

"It is. A recreational one," Deeva educated.

Sanjeet wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed and had nothing to offer but good looks. So getting one over Jolyn was like a victory—something that Jolyn's friends would probably tease them about later. Sanjeet gloated on and on about what was probably the only correct thing he's said the entire semester. He playfully rubbed it Jolyn's face and proceeded to motions his arms and hands in the air like he just won a game of Family Feud.

"Drinking alcohol has ethanol and is a depressant, remember?" Deeva recalled for both of them, "We learned that in first-period chem?"

"I must've missed that class," Jolyn recoiled in embarrassment, not only disappointed by the contrary but by his performance in Chemistry as well, "I always miss Chem."

Suddenly, another one of their friends, Stefani, came hurtling along with three others. She momentarily fought off her companions as they eagerly reached for her phone to show as well. Once they calmed after giving them a few glares of repulsion, Stefani announced that her cousin in California sent them a leaked video of some controversial conspiracy video. They all instantly huddled around one another. Some had a hard time trying to get a good view from certain angles, peaking over or under other's heads,

"Oh my god, is he biting him!?" One friend couldn't believe, covering her mouth in shock.

Others continuously voiced their disgust with the video, seriously sickened by whatever it was they were watching. And although Jolyn stood a few inches taller than most of his other friends, it was difficult for him to see anything with the unpredictable movements from his companions. Pausing halfway through the video, Stefani considerably forwarded the videos to every single one of them whatever way she could—whether it was through text messaging or social media. Before they knew it, they were individually watching on their own phones. Jolyn was unaware of what was going on in everyone else's mind but what Jolyn saw was unbelievable.

The leaked footage showed an incident that happened in the middle of a Los Angeles freeway and was filmed from multiple perspectives. It was filmed from helicopters, from occupants that lived in the apartments nearby, or from cars that were ten feet away to cars that were 30 feet away. Regardless, each piece of footage showed something consistent: It was a dead person's body laid out on a stretcher...at least that's what it seemed. An EMT in the footage, however, reached over the body when the corpse suddenly attacked. It was hard to tell from the pixelated footage, but it looked as if the supposedly dead person was brutally biting into the EMT's neck. That being said, blood wasted no time in making itself present,

"What the hell…" Sanjeet said, squinting his eyes as if they were playing tricks on him, "That's gotta be bath salts or something."

"Oh please, that isn't real," one of the girls responded putting her phone back into her pocket.

"Who are you to say it isn't?" Another friend answered, "Cannibals exist, don't they? Wasn't there something like this before where that guy ate another guy's face off?"

"Yeah!" Sanjeet's face glowed, "And he was on bath salts! I remember that."

"Oh please..." another voice carried on as it faded to the outskirts of Jolyn's mind. He focused on the video and the voices of his friends faded into soft echoes that sounded like they were distancing themselves miles off in a tunnel. They were basically being tuned out each time he replayed a specific part where the victim was being shot multiple times in the chest. He sustained the injuries, having little to no effect. The strange man would stagger backward and just keep walking onward if he were unstoppable. Jolyn scrubbed the video back over and over again until he played it about nine times, studying the floundering walk of the man in the video. The weird and strangest part of all was that although he was walking like a human, there was strangely no sign of life in him. Until there was a final gunshot to the head, the victim finally fell to the pavement. And just as the gunshot went off another time...

 _BLAM!_ One of Jolyn's friends slammed their palm on the table, yelling Jolyn's name simultaneously. He jumped, nearly dropping his phone. All of his friends laughed at how easily spooked he was. He, however, was the only one unamused. Truthfully, he looked like he wanted to cry. He flashed a cheap smile afterward before it vanished,

"C'mon, man, that isn't funny," Jolyn said, quite irritated.

"Calm down," one friend, who voiced their skepticism, said, "You weren't actually bugged by that video are you?"

"Don't you think it's all weird? People randomly falling sick and stuff. Barely anyone showed up to school today…" Stefani reminded, being the only one who didn't put the validity of the video behind her.

"So you're saying you think it's real?" Sanjeet questioned, mounting his eyebrows with a hint of inquisitiveness.

 _Well, it can't just be a coincidence?_ Jolyn thought as his friend chattered. Jolyn readjusted his attention back to his cellphone and did an immediate quick search on the internet. As a teenager in the golden age of technology, you were lured into inauspicious things like Alice down the rabbit hole. Conspiracies were something that Jolyn had a keen interest in before slowly weaning himself off of it in his senior years. The interest in government conspiracy theories came from a place of doubt and fear, because somewhere deep down, people never really trusted their government. People used it either to cope with fear or to give themselves reassurance; others used it as a scare tactic and for propaganda. Especially when your government had a knack for showing its ass for the past hundred years.

He remembered accidentally coming across niche threads like these all over the internet; where people spoke about reanimation linked to testbeds. Chemical warfare. Bioterrorism. It was far beyond Jolyn's comprehension but he remembered always chatting online to a kid named Tobias, someone who also mentioned living in LA. At this point, the video became a viral and trending topic, with verified proof of the actual traffic backup on the Los Angeles news. The only thing that had not been confirmed was the shooting incident, probably to avoid a huge scare. Jolyn immediately put his phone in his pocket and dismissed himself from his friends' conversation,

"Well, I'm gonna go," Jolyn stood up, grabbing his bag, "Got a big dinner to eat and I gotta finish that book report that I haven't started yet."

His friends waved goodbye, finding it a little odd that he was the first to leave when he was usually the last to ever want to go home and be with family.

* * *

Adaline was Jolyn's fraternal twin sister and she was older by only eight minutes. She was mature and no-nonsense. Although she was very responsible, she knew how to unwind and socialize when the time was right. She was thin and gorgeous but completely devoid of cockiness, therefore she understood that she wasn't everyone's cup of tea and always valued her judgment and social stance over her looks. She shared subtle features like her brother: Same skin tone with mildly visible freckles around her nose and eyes. She got most of her mother's looks with a few of her father's and was more readable as Black. She possessed full lips, a cute nose and straightened hair that fell a little bit past her shoulders.

Her style was unique and it always had something to do with how others perceived her. Frankly, it was currently the reason why her and mother weren't currently on such good terms. She had recently dyed her hair rose-gold, still blended in with her natural dark-brown roots. She wasn't punk, goth or a part of any kind of fashion fad. She just rathered standing out. She was so sick of people conforming just to be accepted in society and this was her way of rebelling or telling people "look at me, im different." People could argue that it was obnoxious and pretentious, but she was completely oblivious to it.

Ada worked at a local babysitting center by school. She was somewhat of an activist, prioritizing human rights, especially that of women, people of color, and people who lived in third-world countries. It, in some way, linked to why she had such a soft spot for younger children. Through her very limited experiences, she's met and come across people who just needed some care and mentorship their whole life, and she felt that she could at least try to be that type of person starting at the daycare center. She sat at one of the smaller tables, smiling and enjoying the company with one of the children who was drawing a portrait of themselves and Ada,

"Is that me and you?" Ada inquired the young artist. After the little girl nodded, Ada giggled with full flattery, "You made me look so pretty and even made the hair the right color, Celine!"

Carlos, one of Ada's coworkers and former classmate, exited the daycare's office. He was a tall and arguably attractive Filipino boy who graduated from high school last year. What started off as an innocent question about homework, evolved into daily chit chats in the hallways and then eventually something more. Never did Ada imagine that in a million years that their relationship would be where it was now. However, most doubts came from Ada's presumptions that a man of his type could never be attracted to her. And neither did he once upon a time. But it all changed once he got to know her and it taught him a valuable lesson about what truly makes someone fall in love.

Minding his own business, he walked into the living room and changed the channel on the television. Catching the evening news was something Carlos did on the daily. Momentarily, Ada looked away from Celine's drawing and as the television drew her attention. Her smile slowly faded as she made out the headline that read 'Mass Deaths Recorded Across U.S. From Unknown Virus'. A person could only imagine what thoughts had to be going through one's mind after reading such a startling thing,

"Can you turn up the volume...please?" Ada politely entreated. Doing as requested, Carlos' hand searched for the remote, unable to remove his eyes from the mounted television. He sat close to Ada and Celine's toddler table in a separate chair suitable for adults. Ada's eyes widened as the news appeared to be a lot worse than it sounded, "That's scary. Do you think it has something to do with why only five kids showed up at the daycare today?" Ada looked over her shoulder.

"Could be…" Carlos looked at Ada from the side and could identify her anxiousness by the shaking of her leg. He reached over and rested his palm on her thigh prompting it to stop moving. She looked up at him feeling as if he was reading every thought and emotion that raced through her mind, "Go ahead and call her, okay? Go ahead, I'll be here to watch Celine and Max."

Ada nodded and wasted no time in grabbing her phone from the table. She strolled into the daycare's kitchen which was set up beside the living area and almost appeared as a school kitchen. As she unlocked her phone screen, she saw the notifications of eight missed calls and three unopened text messages—text messages she initially ignored and forgot to get back to. Without a second's thought, she returned her mother's call and rested by the kitchen sink. No more than two rings, Dora answered in no time,

"...Hey, mom," Ada greet.

"Ada, I was calling you all day, what happened?" her mom's frantic voice excelled.

"Sorry, I…" Ada rested her palm on her forehead and quickly thought of some excuses, "I was probably busy. Maybe I was on the train," she lied. She was never on the train. The daycare center from school was walking distance and the only time she ever took the train was when she was coming straight home, "You know there's no service underground."

"Okay, what was I calling to tell you again?" Dora said, attempting to recall her reason for calling, "Right! I cooked some pork ribs for you and Jolyn, so there's a plate of food waiting for you on the table."

"Okay, mommy. Thank you," Ada said, clearing her throat. She glanced over at the television from where she stood, nervously rocking back and forth on the sink counter. She thought long and hard about apologizing to her mom about the argument they had the previous day, but Ada had a pridefulness about her that wouldn't easily let her succumb to defeat, even if it was her own mother, "H-how are you feeling? Are you feeling okay?" She looked over at the television and turned away after seeing an older gentleman, in a translucent oxygen mask and on a stretcher, being loaded onto an ambulance, "Are you feeling sick or anything?"

"No. I'm just tired, but other than that, I feel fine. Why?"

"Are you watching the news?"

"Well, yes."

Ada paused. Her mother was always watching the news, so the question was redundant,

"What do you make of all of it?"

A paused told Ada that Dora was obviously doing some thinking,

"Maybe it's like the swine flu scare that we had last year."

"No, mommy," Her voice softened, to avoid alarming the others—mainly the children, in the next room, "This is different. They're saying people are dying in masses. I feel like something's wrong. Barely anyone showed up in school today, there's been tons of missing posters, and only five parents brought their kids to the daycare center. More kids showed up during that scary blizzard we had earlier this year."

"Well, that _is_ a bit unusual..." Dora said, growing worried from her daughter's discomfort, "But it's nothing to worry about. You'll be okay. Just...come home right away after work, okay?"

"Yeah…"

"Okay, bye, Ada."

"Bye. Love you, mom."

"Love you, too," she said. Just as Ada prepared to put her phone away, she stared at her phone and realized that her mother hadn't ended the call as she usually did after a phone conversation. After a brief moment, Ada could hear her mother's voice calling her name, "Ada?" Just to be sure Ada brought the phone back to her ear very cautiously, and responded. A notable breath was heard, "I'm sorry for saying such mean things about your hair. And I respect your choice to color it that way."

"Thanks, mommy," Ada smiled.

Finally, the call was ended. She rested her phone on the counter beside the sink, wet her hands and splashed some water onto her face. Her mom may have assisted a little in calming them, but her nerves were still present. Reaching over to grab a paper towel, she nearly shouted at the sight of Carlos spying on her from the corner of her eye. He was leaning on the refrigerator that was closest to the doorway. She covered her mouth and let out a nervous chuckle as he laughed with her. She held her chest and let out a huge sigh,

"Sorry about that," he said, flashing the appealing smile that won over her attention, "Sounds like that went well," Carlos pushed himself off the refrigerator and playfully prowled towards her. Once they were face-to-face, he looked down at her and linked his arms around her waist, pressing his body against hers,

"Either one of you apologize?" He said, sounding more sensual than usual.

"She did...surprisingly," Ada said, still confounded by it. At this point, the two of them were basically prom-dancing while just talking to one another. To show a bit of consideration, Ada changed the topic. She reached up and brushed his hair back, "How's your mom?"

Carlos looked somewhat displeased by the mention of his mom,

"Texted her. She said she's fine but she hasn't really been up to much other than being depressed ever since dad died. Seeing her like that just frustrates me sometimes," His unfavorable thoughts of her was like a black cloud over his head and he pretty much stopped engaging. Instead of drifting around the kitchen, they were now sunken in one place. With his arms still wrapped around her, Ada could see that his eyes were looking far into the less painful days of his past. Even though she wasn't being seen at the very moment, she was understanding enough to excuse it. He let out a harrowing sigh, "He was my dad. You don't see me giving up on everyone."

"Just give her time," Ada suggested, hoping not to be overstepping, "He was your dad, but she's still his wife. She's known him her entire life and when something like that is just...forcefully taken away from you, I can't even imagine what that's like,"

Riveted and most appreciative of her words, Carlos leaned in and gave Ada a soft peck on the lips. Their smooch was rather passionate but Ada cut it short, taking the company of the children very seriously. She accepted one last kiss from Carlos and he tightly hugged her before returning to the dining area to monitor Max and Celine. Peering at them through the open space in the kitchen, Ada proceeded to read her disregarded text messages from her brother.

 _Hey, where are you? Mom's been calling you all day_ was the first message sent at 4:10 PM.

The second message, probably sent around an hour later was the link to a video that was supposedly grabbing attention across the globe. After confirming she received his texts, she did exactly as told.

Over time, Ada and Carlos were the last two at the daycare center. When the time came, it was routine to clean up the rooms and lock the place down for the night. Since there was a lack of rugrats today, there wasn't much tidying up to complete. What normally would be an hour of endless vacuuming and nitty-gritty carpet scrubbing, was only a few pickups and two-minute vacuuming. Before Carlos and Ada knew it, they were already headed for the exit. Ada was the first to walk out and noticed a hooded figure that definitely matched Jolyn's thin frame. He near the beginning of the ramp that mazed towards the daycare's porch, leaning on its black railing.

"Jolyn?" Ada called, getting no answer. She called him a second time, getting no answer. She leerily watched his shoulders and head slowly sway back and forth in the same motion continuously. She studied him, wondering what on earth could have him in an exclusively different state. After everything that had been happening for the past few weeks, Ada was on edge. She identified the graphics on his shirt from the back, immediately recognizing it as his clothing, "Jolyn!" Ada called again, this time more sternly.

Still, there was no reaction from him. Ada nervously looked back at Carlos as he was the last to exit and proceed to lock up the daycare center. She walked ahead and slowly made her way down the ramp. She stopped midway just before exiting, standing in the spot where Jolyn's back was turned. She reached forward and poked his shoulder. Startled, he quickly jumped around and revealed headphones pushed into his small ears. Rolling her eyes, she yanked them out by the cord and tossed them over his shoulder like one would a beach towel. Basically relieved, Ada tucked one side of her hair behind her ear,

"Why do you love doing that?" Ada asked,

"Doing what?"

"Having those headphones so loud? I was calling you and you weren't even aware," Ada made gestures and motions with her hands, "I thought something was wrong with you. What if I was a guy with a shank or something?"

"A shank?" Jolyn made a face, "What is this? A daycare for ex-convicts?"

"Seriously, Jolyn," Ada groaned, their voiced beginning to overlap.

"'Kay, sorry, mom. Geez," Jolyn leaned over to get a glance at Carlos over Ada's shoulder, "Hey, Carlos!" He waved.

"Hey, Jolyn. Sup?"

"Just came to pick up your mistress."

Ada slapped him in the chest with the back of her palm. She made her way down the ramp and was now standing on the sidewalk with her brother,

"Carlos, I'm gonna take the bus home with Jolyn instead," she informed while looking back.

"You sure you don't need a ride home?"

"Uh...?" Jolyn interrupted with his hand up, "We'd very much like a ride home!" Jolyn answered for Ada.

She forcefully made him do an about-face,

"It's nice out and we need to talk."

"See you tomorrow then," Carlos waved.

As they both walked, Ada hooked her arm unto her brother's while they happily sauntered down the sidewalk famous for its decade-old gum stains.

While walking past a fenced-off area normally used for waste a scruffy-looking man suddenly jumped out from behind a black dumpster. He was pale skinned with one of the skinniest noses the twins had ever seen. His grey beard was long and matted just like the hair atop his head. He let off a putrid scent that stung the sibling's noses, even as distant as they tried to keep themselves. He was sobbing, and his face glistened in tears as if he had been in endless turmoil,

"She's gone! SHE'S GONE! And it...was death's fault!" strange man screamed while sobbing. He appeared to be homeless and was clearly distraught and in a mode of alarm, "It was death's fault!" he repeated over and over again before stepping closer to the siblings. He reached forward and grabbed Ada's arm. Despite her struggles to be released, his hold was unrelenting. He continued lecturing them on what sounded like senile banter, growing louder and louder, "I WITNESSED IT WITH MY VERY EYES! DEATH CAME OUT OF HER! DEATH WILL COME FOR YOU!" He pointed at Jolyn, "DEATH WILL COME FOR HIM! DEATH WILL COME OUT OF ALL OF US! DEATH—!"

To cut his session short, Jolyn stepped in, demanding the stranger let go of his sister. He pushed the senile man off of Ada, indirectly causing him to tear the shoulder of her white blouse.

Carlos, still in close range, vocally squalled from the parking lot in hopes of getting the strangers attention. He power walked out from behind the brick wall that separated the parking lot from the sidewalk. Like a toddler, the overwrought stranger moved on to Jolyn and shook him forcibly by the shoulders. At this point, he started rambling unintelligible words. Out or pure fear and uncertainty, Jolyn pushed him far more aggressively this time, launching him into a trash bin at the edge of the curb. The homeless man stumbled over two trash bags and floundered into the road of incoming cars that merged into the freeway. Suddenly, a burgundy Mercedes collided with the musty stranger, having the impact forcefully slam him into the windshield. Considering that it was a busy road, the man's body bounced off the car and slammed into another with less impact. As the second car skidded to a stop, the strange man rolled off the hood and rolled onto the hot pavement. All three teenagers were in absolute shock by how quickly things escalated. Unsure how to react, Ada clenched Jolyn's wrist and looked at him stare ahead as tears formed in her eyes.

The driver of the Mercedes exited their car and began to shriek once she witnessed the fatal state of the body. Being partially blocked from the angles of the stalled cars, Carlos decided to take a closer look. He took off, and from where Ada and Jolyn stood, they could tell something was wrong after Carlos nearly fell over and retched. Melancholy and burnt rubber was all that was present at this point. Nosey, yet noisy, bystanders and residents from inside of their apartments looked at the accident, all interested by what just occurred. Jolyn was afraid of the anticipated news, and he watched Carlos exchange a couple of words with the sickened drivers involved in the accident. The woman who screamed couldn't contain her emotions. She was a nervous wreck and was crying in the seat of her car as she frantically called authorities. Carlos walked back to the siblings, dragging his feet across the street as if he were walking through quicksand.

"Carlos…" Ada fearfully wondered, "What is it?"

Carlos took a deep breath and shook his head, unable to look at either of them in the eyes,

"He's dead."

Jolyn couldn't bear to hear those words. He instantly dropped into a squat and buried his face into his palms. Ada kneeled beside him, wrapping her arms around him and rubbing his back as he released hysterical yet silent sobs. Ada could feel the intense trembling of her brother's body, and all she could do was be there to comfort him.

* * *

Long after the police and ambulance finally arrived, they put the deceased's body on a stretcher after covering the body from head to do with a white sheet. He was immediately pronounced dead on arrival. All that was left exposed was two fingers of the stranger's right hand and even that was too much to witness for some bystanders. It was nearly ten o'clock at this point and many people had yet to go home The area was lit by multiple cars backed up on the streets and flashing lights from ambulances and police cars. Being involved in the incident, Ada, Jolyn, and Carlos had to stay behind for further questioning. Looking over her shoulder, Ada could see news reporters preparing to get their inside scoop. Hopefully, Ada and her brother would be gone before they could be questioned and green-lit on television for everyone to know they were involve in a murder. One of the cops, wearing your typical NYPD attire, walked away from his conversation with one of his associates in the street and returned to the sidewalk to speak with the teenagers who all sat on the curb,

"...So you said you pushed him correct?" The cop asked Jolyn. Jolyn nodded, eyes still glossy and heavy from the trauma, "But you said that it was after he was antagonizing you and your sister, is that correct?"

"...Not really antagonizing. But he was going off about something," Jolyn recalled, still perplexed by it all, "Something about death coming out of us."

"Well, we aren't too sure what occurred, but luckily for you, you had some witnesses here to give us a consistent story. So, you won't be held accountable for anything."

"Okay...but…" Jolyn briefly paused, "Why?" Jolyn asked in confusion.

"Look, kid. For now, he's a John Doe without any identification and it wasn't your fault okay? Besides, he was probably some junkie who was doped up on drugs or something. Cases like this happen all the time and there's really nothing we can do about it," Jolyn felt underwhelmed. He was thankful his name was clear but guilt got the best of him in terms of what would happen to the victim afterward. He paused before answering, "Listen to me, alright?" The cop asserted, "You're lucky enough you even have witnesses here for me to let you go, okay? Something like this is actually pretty serious if you meant to do it on purpose. Do you know what that's called? It's called murder. Now, do you want to look at me in the face and tell me that you…" He pointed at Jolyn, and then back to the white sheet in the road, "Murdered that man?" Jolyn frowned and shook his head. The cop knew when to be more delicate with the situation but harshness was needed so Jolyn could face the facts of it all. It was easily to blame yourself for something like this, but holding yourself accountable wasn't the same thing, "I've been a cop many years and dealt with situations like this. Don't beat yourself up over this, okay? It was an accident."

"So, there's nothing you can do for him?" Ada interjected from the side, empathizing with her brother.

"We can try, but other than that...that's just how the law works for something like this. It was accidental and very ill timed. Had he not approached you three, we wouldn't be in this situation," he gave a smirk that was a failed attempt to be reassuring, "We'll contact you tomorrow to fill out a police report but as for right now, you kids should really be getting home and getting some rest. No one deserves to see this."

"Come on, Jolyn. He's right…" Ada added, "Carlos is gonna give us a ride home."

Jolyn did an about-face and was welcomed into the arms of Ada and Carlos. However, the owner of the burgundy Mercedes began shrieking once again as she did before. All three of them turned around and listened. Although they were a decent distance away, her scared screams weren't easily restrained, so the teens could hear every word,

"Officer! I-I saw his hand move! I swear to God I did!" The driver announced.

Carlos was the first to quickly dismiss the woman's paranoia and quickly called Jolyn and Ada to join him. Jolyn and Ada briefly exchanged glances that spoke the same exact questions they immediately understood. They walked into the parking lot, carefully maneuvering around the cops that were directing other backed up cars, to the main road. The cars were basically led through the parking lot, to circle around the accident, and exit out the other end.

Once they all sat in the car, Carlos waste no time starting up his Volkswagen. Looking back to reverse, he had no choice but to encounter the horrid look on Jolyn's face once again,

"You alright?" he questioned considerately, not having his concentration broken.

Jolyn sat in silence.

Next, Ada was answering her phone, bickering back and forth with who was presumably her mother, on their whereabouts and what was taking her and Jolyn so long to get home. Repeatedly telling her mother that she'd "tell her when they arrived," she hung up and groaned in exasperation. No one wondered why she didn't tell her mother right away what happened, therefore no one questioned it. Now just wasn't the time to bring up such a delicate situation, especially since her brother sat dreadfully in the back.

Carlos successfully backed out of his parking space and drove towards the exit of the parking lot. Once the car became steady, Carlos slammed the breaks without warning,

"What the hell, man!" Carlos groaned, attempting to sink his palm into his steering wheel, "Did people not learn from what just happened?!" Carlos looked through the window on the passenger's side, seeing the same inquisitive bystanders beam back into their apartments or down the streets, "The hell are they running from?"

Carlos looked at Ada, expecting some type of back up from the girl who rarely agreed with him, but as he watched her, it was obvious that she shaking in her seat. Something had her attention set in a completely different direction. It wasn't too long before they all followed Ada's gaze and noticed that, what they thought was, the deceased man was now sitting up in the middle of the road. As the white sheet slid off and revealed his swelled face, there was something ominous there that wasn't present in any organism on earth. Despite the multiple chatter and cars speeding on the freeway beside, everything felt as if it became dead silent. The only thing that could be heard and felt was the trepidation that swelled in one's own heartbeat. At this point, the "dead" man had made it to his feet was stumbling to whomever was in his sights. A visible bone protruded out of his right arm and twisted the stomachs of all three young adults in the vehicle. The cops were already cautious of what was happening in front of their very eyes but, like everyone else, probably assumed that there had to be some sort of rational explanation for whatever was occuring. A cynic would probably assume that he was high on some drug only found in the wilds of South America.

Backed up in the narrow and curved path of the parking lot, the cars behind the teens honked for Carlos to get a move on, presumably wanting to get the bloody hell out of there. Carlos sped off without a second's thought and hit the highway for the quickest route home. He looked one final time in the rearview mirrors-they all looked back until the scene was no longer in view. The last thing seen was the police officers withdrawing their firearms.

* * *

Out of all the houses in the neighborhood, the Chadwell's house was amongst the few, two-floor row houses in the block. Every other house was your average home and they always looked much ornamental and bigger from the outside. Carlos pulled up to the very end of the block and halted at the street light. Jolyn expressed a bitter farewell that barely felt wholesome and exited backseat of the minivan without even waiting for a reply. Carlos briskly rolled down his window and called out to him. However, Jolyn didn't respond. He didn't want to talk and just needed some time alone. He was seen digging through his pockets for his house keys and once he finally found it, he entered the house as if he was being followed by something demonic,

"Why is he like this, man?" Carlos asked looking at Ada, "Freaking out over everything? We have to talk about what we saw."

"He doesn't want to…" Ada understood, still having an obvious shakiness in her voice.

"But, I saw it too! He's so dramatic about—"

"...Just be quiet, Carlos!" She snapped. She didn't mean it harshly but she just needed space to process it. Everyone did. Besides, Carlos had a very virulent ideology when it came to proving how "tough" and "formidable" he was compared to others. And although she was used to it, now wasn't the time to do it when it came to her brother, "Please, just be quiet. We get it. Not everyone is so thick-skinned like you."

Carlos didn't bother to retaliate because he knew it was going to be a never-ending confrontation. He put his car into the parked gear and powered it off. Being double-parked, he toggled on his hazard flashers so that oncoming cars would easily drive right past without any issue. They quietly sat in the dark for a while, having the street lights color their interior every time it changed through the windshield. At this point, Carlos understood it. Despite his mind racing a mile a minute,—they needed a moment. Finally breaking the ice, he looked over at her,

"What the hell did we see, Ada?"

Ada shook her head and folded her lips inward before talking,

"I don't know," she whispered. She looked over at him, "The news reports, the video, that man," she hugged herself in an attempt to repress her goosebumps, "All of it just feels connected."

"What video?" Carlos pried.

That's when Ada remembered he didn't see it,

"There's a leaked video going around of some guy killing EMTs on a freeway in LA," Carlos' face changed, hoping she might've meant it figuratively, "Like...literally _eating_ them, Carlos. And before they take him out, he's shot four times in the chest," she exhaled shakingly, recalling every second the footage as if it were a nightmare, "He falls to his knees but he gets right back up before they finally shoot him in the head."

"...No one can survive a shot to the head," Carlos rationalized, becoming even more unsettled.

"But no one can survive five shots to the chest either, can they? Not even with a bulletproof vest on. At least I don't think?" She shook her head, "The point is that people thought that the man in the video was dead. We thought that the homeless guy was dead...and they weren't..."

"Then what if they were?" Carlos wondered, following up with non-lexical vocals to mock The X-Files theme song. He looked over with a light chuckle, hoping to lighten the mood. Seeing that nothing worked, Carlos presented his palm and Ada held it, "Will I see you tomorrow?"

Ada nodded without much to say. Reaching over, she gave him a quick peck on the mouth and exited the car. As she walked around the front of the van, Carlos stuck his head out the window,

"One more?"

"No," Ada smiled with difficulty, approaching the steps to her yard.

"Look at my face!" Carlos said attempting to make the ugliest frown on the face of the earth, but Ada didn't budge. Instead, she wondered what he was doing with his face, "If you don't give me one more kiss, I'm gonna sing for you like last time."

"Please don't…" Ada said with an exhausted grin.

Channeling his inner Whitney, Carlos began,

"And iiiiiiiiiiiiiii-eeeeeee-iiiiiiiiiiiii-eeeeee-iiiiiiiii," he purposely took the most dramatic breath ever, "WILL ALWAYS—"

"Okay! Okay! Shhh!" Ada quickly dashed back to the driver's side and gave Carlos a couple more smooches through the opened window, having him hold her chin with his digits.

As she backed away from the window, Carlos remained parked until she made it into her house safe and sound. After she vanished, Carlos' pleasure didn't last too long. He exhaled and rested his head back, unable to get his mind off the, presumably, homeless man back at the daycare center.

What the hell happened after they left?


End file.
